Emergency Theater Live- Sixty Episodes

by Anotherjaneway

Sixty story episodes of Emergency! written by EMS, Fire personnel along with fans of the series. Each chapter is a complete episode. The first story is the pilot.

43. Chapter 43

This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Forty Three

43. The Quint Connection Season Six- Episode 43 Short summary-
Chet Kelly's engineer's test becomes a critical skill during a skiing weekend at Lake Tahoe. Dixie learns she hates the cold.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.
.

Long Summary-
Kelly cringes under the attentions of the smoke eater at shift change when the older captain warns the substituting Stone about Chet's shinanigans. The gang, Dixie and Brackett get excited about an upcoming skiing weekend at Lake Tahoe. The gang attends a house fire and rescue two victims from smoke inhalation. The smoke eater corners Chet in an impromptu verbal oral engineer's examination.
Dixie vows to camp next to a ski lodge lobby fireplace for the next two days. The gang and Rampart pair rescue a child from choking at a restaurant and meet up with the resort's local ski patrol. The vacationing bunch splits up in the great wild outdoors just in time to feel the effects of an avalanche. Stoker burns himself on camp coffee. They help out at a buried alive snow slide site, a cliff fall, and a car over the embankment rescue. Johnny wins a date with a beautiful EMT snow patroller and Marco celebrates a baby's survival by making a snow angel.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Three..
The Quint Connection Debut Launch: March 1st, 2007. **************************************************
From: "Robert Gutheim" rguthei1 .com Date: Fri Mar 2, 2007 11:20 am Subject: Musical Captains It was a nice early morning at Station 51 about forty five minutes before A-shift went on duty. Firefighter Chet Kelly was already in the bunkroom trying to fill a balloon up with water.

"Ahem," he heard as if someone was trying to clear their throat.

Kelly tried not to startle.
"Captain Robertson, What brings you here?" Chet asked him as he spied the man whom in his head, he considered to be one of the last, great smoke eaters.

"I was asked, Mr. Kelly, to fill in for the regular captain on C-shift.
Don't worry. I'm not working a double with you boys. At least,
not today." Then he rubbed his nose, his wrinkles curling up in half amusement that came out all gruff. "You aren't thinking of pulling a prank on a fellow firefighter here are you?" he asked him. "It's still my watch."

"Of course not, Captain Robertson. I was just running a pressure test on the faucet, you know, timing how long it takes to fill a balloon to a certain size." Chet lied. "It's a hydrologics problem for Engineer Stoker to solve in preparation for his upcoming recertification test.."

The tall silver haired captain's eyes narrowed.
"I can assure you, Mr. Kelly, that the faucet's pressure is more than adequate. You better hope I don't tell Captain Stanley about your alleged pressure tests if you want to keep from landing latrine duty." Robertson told him.

"Oh no, sir, please don't. I just wanted to make Gage feel welcome. After all, today is his first day back from his most recent stay at Rampart." Chet said.

"Then maybe, Mr. Kelly, you should have baked a cake." Robertson said,
shoving his hands into his pockets as he saundered out of the bathroom.

"Nah, Roy is bringing the cake." Chet told him. "Thank you, sir."

After Robertson left the room, Chet finished what he was doing and headed off.

Soon, over time, the other members of Chet's crew arrived and changed into their uniforms. After a bit, Chet grinned as he heard someone scurrying for a certain part of the locker room from the main vehicle garage, and soon after that came... *SPLASH!*

"CHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEE EEETTTTTT TTTTTT!"

"Ahhhhhh. Sounds like Gage is here." sighed Captain Stone who was subbing for Captain Stanley for the day.

He walked over and leaned into the locker room doorway.
"Gage! You've got five minutes to get into uniform before roll call!"
He shouted, filling the apparatus bay with his gentle sounding, booming voice.

Soon after that, everyone gathered in the garage.

"Morning, gang." greeted Stone shortly. He cracked a grin at the sight of Johnny's still towelling off his wet hair. "Captain Stanley had to take the day off... Uh,..something about needing a little extra time to prepare for a ski trip." Ben informed them. "Okay, chore duties...
Gage, after you and DeSoto finish checking the squad, you're in charge of the detailing the bunkroom and locker areas. Stoker has cooking duty...
Lopez you've got the hose tower. Say, Chet, guess what? You can help Lopez with the hose tower and then you can get cracking on the Latrine. Captain Robertson asked me to made sure to have me give you that job."

Gage started clapping in appreciation. "Thanks, Ben. He deserves it."

"Aw, man.." Chet moaned. "I can't even get a break from the latrine when Captain Stanley isn't here."

Roy and Johnny got to work inventorying the drug, trauma, I.V.,
and splint boxes as well as making sure the biophone and defibrillator were charged up and functional. They also checked to see that the respirators were sufficiently full.

"We might want to change out this bottle after our next run. It's only got about 800 psi left in it." Gage noted looking at the main respirator's D tank.

"That's not a lot of gas left, since lot of times, we have it going at 15 to 20 liters per minute.. I'll swap it out." Roy volunteered, going to get a new cylinder.. When that job was completed, Roy glanced into the office where Captain Stone was looking at some paperwork.
"Cap, Gage and I are going to make a supply run." he advised him.

"Ok, Roy. Just remember you and Gage have chores to do when you return." Stone said.

DeSoto nodded. Then he started smiling when Stone began chuckling.
"What's so funny?"

Ben took off his white inspection cap and rubbed his tightly curled hair. "I sure hope Gage doesn't get injured today." laughed the African American captain.

Roy shrugged, his easy mood still glowing on his face.
"So do I. Tomorrow afternoon, after we get off duty, we're heading for Lake Tahoe." Roy told him.

"Wow, who's all going?" Stone asked him.

"Oh, just the usual six of us, plus Brackett, and Dixie." Roy told him.
"Wanna come?"

"No.." he said empathetically. "Have fun. I hate the snow." Ben said, making a face.

"I'll tell ya all about it."
Roy drummed a happy beat on the door frame as he turned away and got into the squad behind the driver's wheel.

"L.A, Squad 51. We're 10-8 to Rampart General." Gage called out using the hand mic.

##Squad 51. Time out : 07: 04. ## echoed Sam's familiar voice throughout the station's overhead and over their dash speakers.

A short trip later, they backed into the Emergency area away from the patient unloading lanes. Leaving their helmets in the truck, they wandered in and over to the reception's desk with an empty kerlix box.

"Hey guys," Dixie greeted them. "You ready for tomorrow?"

"Just about, Dixie. I just have to get through this shift..." Johnny replied. "...and I'm home free. We're just here for a few supplies."

"How is it being back at work?" Dixie asked him, remembering his double overnight stay due to smoke inhalation.

"Well, I got greeted by a water balloon courtesy of The Phantom."
Gage replied. "So I guess I'm feeling properly christened." he joked, still a little hoarse.

"Hopefully Chet will lay off during the ski trip." Dixie said.

"I'm sure Cap will do his best to keep Chet in line while we're all out there." Roy said.

The H.T. beeped. ##Squad 51, stand by for a response.## came the dispatcher's voice over the open channel handy talkie.

"Well, we'd better get going." Roy said as they were dispatched to a house fire. Its address flowed out richly.

Dixie waved a bored hand.
"Have fun, you two. But I promise you we'll have even more of the real stuff starting tomorrow." McCall called out after them. "I'll have your order filled by the time you get back here with a patient. That's if you get one who's not wearing a county jacket." she corrected, partially as a hint warning Johnny to be careful.

"We'll come anyway.." Gage promised. "And yeah, I'll be careful.
I've coughed enough over the two days to last a lifetime.." he told her, chuckling. "I can hardly wait to start breathing in all that fresh, crisp mountain air."

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "Robert Gutheim" rguthei1 .com Date: Sat Mar 10, 2007 12:25 pm Subject: House Fire They arrived at the scene of a two story house that had smoke pouring out of the downstairs. The house itself looked abandoned. By this time, Engine 51 and Truck 116 were already on hand.

Roy and Johnny walked over to Captain Stone.

"What have we got Cap?" Roy asked him.

"The house is supposedly vacant. The owners are out of town and have been for a few months. Apparently they summer up north somewhere according to the neighbors.." he said pointing to a man he had just spoken to moments before. "Chet and Marco are doing a search make sure no vagrants moved in while the owners were away." Captain Stone reported.

Right then Chet and Marco jogged over and set down a couple of victims from where they had been perched on top of their air bottles across their backs. The first was a male around age thirty five who was unconscious. The second was a little girl around five or six who wasn't moving either.

Roy and Johnny got to work, each taking a victim's head.
"Get out both O2 apparatuses, Mike. They're in trouble."
said DeSoto, seeing their bluish color.

"You got it." said Stoker, hurrying first to the squad and then the engine.

Vince, directing traffic, walked over.
"What did you find out, guys?" he asked the firefighters.

"Apparently, these people tried to move in as supposed renters while the owners were away. According to the neighbors, nobody is supposed to be living in that house." Stone reported. "Excuse me,
I'm needed." he told the officer.

"Sure, no problem. I'll get the rest later." said Vince.

Stone knelt to help Johnny, still being a paramedic himself. He nodded at Marco to ventilate Gage's man with a demand valve and he wrote down the vitals Gage called out. Then he handed Johnny's note pad to Roy and soon, he patched the sooty adult into the Tetronix and used the defib paddles to view the girl's rate and rhythm on the Datascope. "Chet, is she clear enough for you?" Ben asked Kelly, who was supporting the child's weak inhalations on an oxygenated bag while Stoker kept her head in a careful, neutral line.

"Yeah. She's still ok." replied Kelly. "This is working. Her color's returning."

"Rampart, this is Squad 51..." Roy called in.

##Go ahead, 51. This is Rampart Base.## Dixie replied.

"Rampart, we have two victims of a house fire. Victim One is a male age around thirty five. We are presently administering 15 liters of 02. Vitals are: BP, 80 over 50. Respirations were eight unassisted. His pulse is 142 and weak but regular. He is patched in and we can send you a strip. Victim Two is a female child approximately five years of age. Vitals signs : Pulse is 124. respirations unaided were at six. BP is reading at 68 over 20. Her rhythm's showing on paddles as an uncomplicated sinus tachycardia."

##10-4, 51. Transmit both their EKGs as soon as you can.##

At Rampart, Dr. Early was just walking over.

"What have you got, Dix?" he asked her. Dixie handed him the run sheet. He looked it over quickly and keyed the mic.

##51, are both your victims cold and clammy?## Early asked.

"Affirmative, Rampart. Still pale, too, despite the O2." Roy replied.

##Ok, send me a strip on Victim One first. As soon as you've patched in Victim Two, follow up with hers. For Victim Two, insert a peds endotrach tube and step up her oxygen to prevent incidental P.E.. For both victims, start a couple of I.V.'s of normal saline, wide open. Treat any visible burns, 51. For Victim One, administer 1.0 mgs 1/10,000 epinephrine I.V. push. Give Victim Two .3 mgs of eppy in a 1/1000 I.V. bolus.## Early ordered. ##Let me know if Victim One begins to show that he needs further airway support past your oropharyngeal. I'll authorize something else.##

Roy quickly acknowledged his orders and began working on the little girl.

Gage meanwhile searched for more on the man. He had a couple minor smoking burns which Stoker quickly snuffed out and irrigated using sterile draping sheets and saline bottles. "Stoker, would you say he's a seven on the rule of nines?"

"Easily.." replied the engineer. "Both legs, neck, this arm, and along the left side of his lateral back. That arm's circumferential."

"O.k. Go ahead and wrap that one. Loosely. And tell me what you get for capillary refill."

Stoker checked, pinching a fingernail. "Over two seconds."

Gage nodded. "That's just shock working. The burn itself is only second degree there." he said, pointing. Then Johnny turned his attention to the child. She was surprisingly unscathed and her only problem seemed to be her trouble breathing from her recent smoke exposure.

Roy picked up the phone after tossing down a failed I.V. set.
"Rampart, I'm having trouble getting the I.V. in on Victim Two. Requesting permission for an ET administration?"

## Approved, 51. Double concentration on that epinephrine with a 10cc saline bolus. Any presence of rhonchi or rales in either patient?## Early asked him.

"Stand by Rampart," Roy replied. "Johnny, any rhonchi or rales on your victim?"

"No, there isn't." Gage replied. "He sounds open." Johnny answered, pulling the stethoscope out of his ears.

Roy nodded. "Rampart, negative on both victims for rhonchi or rales. And there's no evidence of any burns, ash or soot around their mouths and noses."

##Ok, 51. Continue all treatments and transport as soon as possible.
Keep us advised of any change in their conditions.## Early ordered.

"10-4." Desoto replied.

Within five minutes, the fire crews were loading their patients into the ambulance. Roy and Johnny both rode in the ambulance together to keep up resuscitation efforts so Marco was elected to drive the squad in.

Dixie was waiting with their earlier supplies that she pulled out after she saw the gurneys taken into their assigned treatment rooms.
A few minutes later, Roy and Johnny joined her at the desk.

"I added in anything you used on this last rescue." Dixie said. "How are they both doing?" she asked softly.

"The father started breathing on his own on the way in. The girl is still out of it. Early just put her on a respirator." Roy reported. "I hope she makes it."

"If she doesn't,.. well, you did your best, Roy." Dixie reminded him. "Much as we try we can't win them all."

"I know. But when you think about it, it's our job to save as many as possible. Both mine and Johnny's as paramedics, and yours as a nurse."
Roy commented.

"We can only do the best we can." She soon changed the subject with a deft smile after she poured them all some coffee into waiting mugs. "Has Chet made any wise cracks about Kel and I coming along on the ski trip just in case Johnny gets injured?"
she asked winking one eye suggestively.

Roy smirked at her. "When he found out you and Brackett were tagging along,
that was the first thing he joked about. Thankfully, Gage wasn't in that day." Roy replied, throwing his partner an ironic look that spoke volumes.

Johnny scoffed when he learned what had happened behind his back.
"If I'd been working, I would have given new meaning to the phrase 'if looks could kill.'" Gage pointed out, sipping his coffee.

"Not to worry, Johnny. Cap gave him one that I think would have completely qualified on that count." Marco said.

Very soon, they returned to the station and got back to work on their chores.

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: "killashandrarey01" killashandrarey01 Date: Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:50 pm Subject: The Value Of A Play On Words~~

Johnny actually started whistling while he mopped. A nameless tune, but one full of obvious contentment.

Roy began grinning up where he was polishing the chrome roof rails on top of the squad's chassis. He chuckled. "I never thought I'd see ever the day a bucket of ice cold soapy water had the power to put a bonafide smile onto your face."

"That's not such a surprising secret to anyone around here tonight, now is it?" Johnny beamed widely, leaning on the mop handle. He studied his watch. "In exactly ten hours hours, nineteen minutes and.." he squinted, peering at his water spotted watch face. "..forty two seconds, we'll all be plane bound for Eastern Lake Tahoe for a long weekend of fun in the..."

"Snow, not sun." Roy interrupted, making a face. "You know, I still can't believe I let the the rest of you guys talk me into going on this trip in the first place."

"That's not the fault of ours. At all."
Gage paused in his vigorous floor scrubbing, glancing upwards.
"You agreed to come pretty fast when we offered you that free plane ticket, Mr. Family Man."

Roy sprayed another spritz of polisher on his rag in irritation.
"Of course I did. I thought that Joanne and the kids would be going there with me."

Johnny laughed. "Now what point would there be in inviting family to an all worker's anniversary party? You know as well as I do that Saturday is the fifth annual anniversary of the inception of Brackett's fledgling paramedic program becoming official law."

Roy actually had to confess out loud. "Not so fledgling any more. We have what? Twenty four squads now running all over the state of California?"

"Twenty six, if you count the two new ones just legalized in Santa Rosa County last month." Johnny added.

"Oh, yeah. Guess we were the ones responsible for Dr. Frick requesting those teams. Directly." Roy agreed.

"Ah, nothing like a point made in real life to drive home a little reality." said Gage.

"Huh?" Roy doubletook, clearly not understanding Gage's euphemism.
Then he blinked. "Oh, you mean, 'Truth's the best teacher.'"

"Nah, I meant what I said before, Roy. I believe that sometimes, it takes a real life experience to make other peoples' lives' problems seem more problematic." said Johnny with conviction.

Roy's head began to hurt. "Whatever you say, Johnny. I'm just glad you're having fun for once."

Johnny shoved his mop back into the metal bucket wringer and he almost sat down onto the floor in his enthusiasm to ring it dry through the rollers.
"Now what's that supposed to mean? Since when have you ever seen me unhappy?" John asked incredulously.

DeSoto opened his mouth to begin a reply.

Chet Kelly's voice broke the stillness of the apparatus bay. "No, Roy. Don't answer his question or we're all gonna be sorrier for it." he said pointedly.
"Do you really want to pay for it later when Gage begins to grumble about that oddball character flaw of his all weekend long?"

Johnny pursed a lip, getting annoyed.
"I will not. And it's not a character flaw. Everybody gets a little unhappy every once in a while. You're no exception to the rule yourself in that department."

"Will to." egged Chet. "I smile a lot more than you, Gage. And the rest of the guys know it, too." Kelly challenged.

"Oh, boy.." Roy mumbled under his breath, ducking behind the safety of the row of parked yellow air bottles nestled near his head.

Before the building fray bloomed, it was nipped in the bud.

"Heave to on that mop, Gage. Now!" ordered Cap, as he stepped into the garage from his office."And Chet, hut two.. double time, for the hose tower. She's your serious date for tonight for mouthing off on the night before vacation." Hank bellowed.

"Aww, Cap. I won't have any arms left for all the ski slopes I'm gonna hit tomorrow if I do that." Kelly protested.

"You REALLY won't have any arms left if I tell you to drain all those used hoses manually. So far, you've still got my expressed permission to use the pulley rigs." Hank frowned magnanimously."But that's solely dependent on how quiet all of this shooting the acid breeze becomes, during the next five seconds. 5!.. 4!.. 3!..."

Chet zippered instantly, and immediately retreated for the rear garage door.

Hank nodded appreciatively when his two paramedics bent with industrious hearts to their tasks without issuing a single peep.

Popping a couple of dry aspirin into his mouth, Hank Stanley turned back to his long list of log updates and the still waiting stack of evaluation folders piled in his desk's inbox basket. ::Now, maybe I can get a little peace and quiet around here long enough to get my work done without unnecessary aggravation.:: he thought,
rubbing away the last of a tension headache. ::Here's to you, Mr. Robertson.:: he toasted with his mug of steaming coffee. ::My station this weekend, is yours.::

-
The next morning Captain Bob Robertson verbally grabbed a hold of Kelly when he tried to sneak by the main office from the locker room for his jeep. He was noticed and pegged, caught in full view when the subbing smoke eater addressed him by name. "Mr. Kelly.. a word with you if I may."

Kelly winced in mid sneaking step and froze. "Yes, sir?" he said, willing himself into a neutral expression as he turned around.

"I noticed you're still on the engineer's list for this year." said the grizzled silver haired Cap, holding up a memo, fresh in from Headquarters.

"Oh. Uh,..yeah, I guess I am. But I'm not going to get an engine spot anytime soon. I'm only slot number 74." Chet told him with some saddened weight.

Bob Robertson's eyes lit up. "Ah, but that's only for the L.A. County rigged stations.
Haven't you ever figured out that this list now extends to ALL counties in the state?"

Kelly's mouth gaped. "It does?"

Nearby, Roy's ears were perked, too. ::I know paramedics now are nationally accredited so all of us can work in any county or state across the country away from our working counties. But Bob's news still means nothing to me. I've already told the chiefs that I don't want to move away from Carson.::

Quietly, Roy left Chet to his current fate.

Bob spread out a hand to a chair already turned to face his own lounge chair. "Mr. Kelly. Have a seat. I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

Chet, feeling like a brand new probie again, sat, with a thump onto the wooden seat. "Uh,..Wh-What would you like to know, sir? Is this about something Captain Stanley missed on my annual evaluation?"

"No..no..no." bubbled a grinning Bob. "Just indulging in a little curiosity. Tell me, do you know what a Quint is?"

Chet froze and tried not to chew his lip. Then his father's old lectures started coming back to him. "Uh,..yes, sir. A Quint is short for "quintuple combination pumper."
It's an engine apparatus that can work five fire functions: as a pump, a water tank, as a fire hose source, as an aerial device, with ground ladders." Chet answered, swallowing a little, hoping his details were right.

Bob smiled, suddenly studying his hands. "That's right, son. You're extremely well read. Bet you didn't know this. The first Quint was patented in 1912 by Metz Aerials, a German-based fire and rescue apparatus manufacturer. North America-based manufacturers, such as American LaFrance began making them soon after.."

Chet began to relax a bit. "And.. Ferrara Fire Apparatus, Pierce Manufacturing,
and Seagrave companies."

Bob nodded. "Yep. What's a Quint's specs? Give me just the general ballpark figures." he said, snapping his fingers suddenly.

Chet blanched, but he began dragging out information that he had forgotten he already knew. "Her fire pump's got a minimum capacity of 1000 gpm. Her aerial device is a combination aerial ladder and elevating platform with a permanently installed waterway. Her static water tank has a minimum capacity of 300 gallons..."

"How much storage?" Bob asked, narrowing his eyes.

Chet began to feel like a bug under a microscope.
"Uh,..40 cubic feet of enclosed compartmentation with...
a minimum of 30 cubic feet of storage area for a 2.5 inch or larger fire hose.
And two preconnected fire hose lines."

"And her ground ladders?"

Chet began to sweat.
"85 feet including, one extension ladder, one roof ladder and one attic ladder?"

"Correct. What else?" Robertson said, sliding a pencil across the engineer's list so hard that his pencil tip broke.

Chet jumped in his seat. "Uh,.. suction hose.. Yeah. 15 feet of soft suction hose and 20 feet of hard suction hose for drafting."

"What's drafting, fireman?" Robertson fired off suddenly.

Kelly's upper lip quivered and he dared to speak. "Sir, am I being tested here?"

Bob smiled. Slowly. "Not exactly. But,..maybe." he said vaguely. "Go ahead and see if you can answer that last bit."

Chet's eyebrows furrowed in worry. But he dug down deep into his memory of the engineer's test. "Drafting..refers to the use of suction to move a liquid such as water from a vessel or body of water below the intake of a suction pump."

"Yep. What are the standard formulas for those processes on a Quint?"

Kelly just about had a stroke and he wiped away the sweat now dripping into his eyes. "Standard atmospheric pressure is 14.7 lbf/in , enough to raise water to a theoretical maximum of 33.9 ft through any tube. Depending on application, fire department pumps lift water 20 to 30 feet artificially."

"Yes. Give me more." ordered Bob.

Chet's eyes began to lose their focus."To reduce drafting friction and obtain a larger flow or higher lift, a larger cross-section of suction hose is employed. For example, using a 5 inch pump could lift 500 US gallons per minute up 23 feet. All told the longer the lift, the lower the flow, for a fixed diameter suction hose and any given pump. Multiple relays should be used if the need arises, with a suction pump drafting up to 30 ft so it can discharge at great distances."

"How about gravity use apparatuses?"

"For forest fires, sir. Tanks filled by Quints can become a siphon with gravity.
Portable reservoirs of 1,000 to 3,000 US gallons can be filled with a Quint's water and small hoses can be laid and used downhill of the tanks."

"What makes this distinguished from regular hoses running off a Quint?"

"Sir, the drafting tank hoses' nozzle pressure is proportional to its distance below the reservoir surface. Forty-three percent of the distance, in feet, is approximately the number of pounds per square inch pressure generated by passive flow down. So 100 feet equals 43 psi."

"Stop. How many hoses are on a Quint?"

Chet's eyes never wavered from a spot on the wall. "800 feet of 2.5 inch or larger fire hose. 400 feet of 1.5 inch, 1.75 inch, or 2 inch hose. Nozzles : One combination spray nozzle, 200 gpm, two combination spray nozzles, 95 gpm each. One playpipe nozzle with shutoffs alongside 1 inch , 1.125 inch, and 1.24 inch tips."

"What else? Name the rest."

Chet no longer felt himself sweat. He was regurgitating pure information at that point, easily. And from a hidden recess he didn't know he had.
"A Quint's manifest. Sir, right, sir : One 6 pound flathead axe, one 6 pound pickhead axe, one 6 foot pike pole, one 8 foot plaster hook, two portable hand lights, one dry chemical fire extinguisher with a minimum 80-B:C rating, one 2.5 gallon or larger water extinguisher, one pump intake connection with supply-hose compatible threads, one SCBA for every seating position, one spare SCBA cylinder for every SCBA carried, one first aid kit, BLS rated,
four spanner wrenches, two hydrant wrenches, two double female adapters, two double male adapters, one rubber mallet, four salvage covers,12 feet x 14 feet, four ladder belts, one 150 foot light-use safety rope, one 150 foot general-use safety rope, two wheel chocks and two class one Type E oxygen resuscitators." Chet coughed, suddenly coming to his senses.

Bob's eyes never lost their grinning smile. He just held out his hand.
"Congratulations on being moved up into the low twenties on the engineer's list, son, congratulations. I've just granted you another year's extension and a forfeit from the official retest for this year."

Chet blinked a few times and started shivering. "I...what?"

"You passed, son. So put it there and go get your butt going on that well deserved vacation.." Bob said, standing and clasping Chet's clammy hand into his own warmly. "It was my turn to be the pop oral examiner this time around.
Sorry to catch you unawares. But I was under McConikee's strict orders not to let you or anyone else onto what was going to happen this morning.."

Chet continued to babble. "But ...I... you...he.."

"Good lord, son. Do you want me to call your paramedic friends in here to check you out? You look like you're in shock."

Chet shook his head and his color abruptly returned. He returned Bob's firm handshake and stood on shaky legs that finally decided to obey him.
He started grinning from ear to ear. "I'm in the twenties now? That fast?"

"Yep. The twenty secondth, to be exact. DeSoto didn't do as well as you.
He was just in here."

"He didn't?! But uh.. Sorry, but wasn't he in ninth position last year?"
Chet stammered.

"Yes, but does DeSoto still want the position as badly as you do?" Bob winked. "Not every candidate reads fire engine history as deeply as they really should. Especially that history and knowledge on the old Quints."
He leaned over the desk and whispered in confidence. "Between you and me, I think these old Quint gals are going to make one hell of a come back within some of the smaller fire districts in the near future."

"I think you're right, Cap. You can't deny compact versatility." Chet whispered back. "Especially not on our kind of fire department budget."

"Spoken like a true fire captain hopeful." Bob grinned, letting go of Chet's hand. Without a further word, the gray haired Captain Bob Robertson dismissed Kelly with a crisp formal nod and salute before he ignored him entirely behind the captain's-eyes-only copy of the modifying engineer's list again.

In glowing red markered letters, Chet could read his name scribbled backwards in its new official row and the euphoric Kelly continued to see it behind his retinas whenever he blinked, all the way to the LAX airport, on his way to meet the others.

Photos: None.

***************************************************
From: Roxy Dee laterrapincabesa
Date: Tue Mar 20, 2007 4:11 pm Subject: The Warming House..

The snow was falling lightly outside in the Sierra Nevada Mountains when the bunch from Los Angeles arrived in three rental cars topped to the brim with all their suitcases and ski gear. The sun was shining brilliantly but Dixie McCall would have nothing to do with it.

"Oh,...BrrRRrrrr." she shivered, stepping awkwardly over the calf deep flakes as she fled for the warmth of the gigantic ski lodge blanketed thickly in the stuff. "I'll give a week's pay for the sight of a sun drenched palm tree waving in the breeze."

"No bet." grinned Dr. Brackett, dressed in red down and yellow. "There're palm trees in the steam room. I made sure to check the brochure."

"Good, then I'll spend the whole weekend hugging it in there pretending that I'm not here." she fake whined, blowing on her numb fingers.

Johnny Gage grinned and reached over in his white wool lined deer hide jacket and lariat and gave her companionable shoulder hug to ward off her chills. "Does it help that they have a coffee shop on the veranda?"

"They do?" McCall brightened, admiring the lodge spreading expansively above and around them. "Wow, would you look at the size of that fireplace?
Oh, I'm so at home. Kel, take my stuff." she said, dropping her two woven suitcases and making a beeline for the monstrous blaze snapping and crackling amid the colorful stones set into a pine log wall. Immediately, she sank down into the deep couch, kicked her boots off and tucked her cold tingly feet underneath herself as she curled up in feline like bliss. "Oh, I'm not gonna move from this spot. Not for anything. Guys, this is one fire, that you're NOT gonna be putting out." she said passionately, guarding the new one.

"That is the idea, Dixie." Cap said, shedding his short denim jacket as he dusted snow off his shoulders. "See all the logs in the bin? That steward's filling it with more bundles even as we speak."

"Perfect.." Dixie sighed, curling up into a red plaid comforter that she immediately pulled out of her travel bag.

Chet Kelly pulled off his nerdy toboggan hat festooned with ear tassels. "They've got gourmet food in a three star restaurant.." he dangled.

"No dice." Dixie said quickly, warming her frozen fingers at the roaring flames. "These nuts and fruits'll do me just fine.." she said, pointing a delicate toe at the snacks lined up on the table invitingly for wandering guests. "Just call me the resident book worm couch potato because that's what I'm gonna be right along with the official lodge house mouser.." she declared tossing her frosted snow melting head at the sleek, fat red tabby who was face worshipping the fire and peering about with sleepy jowl slitted eyes. "So go have fun. Don't wait up for me. This is a resort, right? Anything I want'll be brought to me instantly. All I have to do is snap a couple of fingers."

Roy made an amused face. "Uh,.. this is a ski lodge, not a hospital. Folks might take that as being a little rude. I don't think there're any student nurses lurking around here anyplace to jump instantly at any of your nonverbal orders."

"I wouldn't be too sure.." said Marco, looking at a couple of notices on the employee board. "Looks like they're gonna have some kind of rescue training going on this afternoon."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Stoker, already coat peeled and lounging in a thick dark green carnigan. "What's it about?"

"Guess.." said Chet, peering at the reminder, scoffing at his denseness. "We're surrounded by a million tons of the stuff."

Mike snapped his fingers. "Avalanche rescue. Right. Sorry. Not used to thinking in terms of that kind of thing."

"That's the whole idea for this vacation, Mike. To get our minds OFF work. Now come on, come on, let's go. I wanna go check out the stables." said Johnny eagerly.

"And I want to hit all four triple black diamonds before sunset." said Chet.

Roy's eyebrows went up. "Don't you think you ought to try a few bunny hills first?
Just to warm up a little?" he said, winking at Dixie in apology for the thawing reference.

"Why? I've been ocean water skiing for two months straight getting ready for this trip. I've got every muscle in tip top peak condition." Che declared.

"You sure about that?" Cap said dubiously. "I think I'm beginning to see a hint of flabby-ness starting up under the forearms there, Kelly." he teased as Kelly got down to his tie dyed hippie shirt emblazoned with a peace sign.

"You're not seeing nothing, Cap, not a single ounce. Skiing and firefighting? Now that's a recipe for anybody to win the Mr. Olympus title."

Gage burst out laughing. "Him?" he said, pointing at Chet as he stuffed a few unshelled pecans into his mouth hungrily.

Chet took offense with good humor.
"Look who's talking, Scrawny Bones. I'm still the winner of all our arm wrestling contests."

"Not for long." said Gage, clearing his throat uncomfortably at the far shorter fireman. He hefted up on his Indian beaded belt. "Say, who's starving for lunch? I know I am after all that slippery driving coming in from the airport."

"Me.." "Me.."
"Me.." came a chorus of agreement.

Brackett chuckled at everyone's playful eagerness.
"Tell you what? Let's go check in first, then we can all grab something to eat together at one big table. How does that sound?"

"Great... great.." they said and turned to go. But then, as one, they stopped at looked back at Dixie, still cocooned in her afghan. "Dixie?" asked Brackett for them all.

She sighed. Expansively."Ok, I'll come. But you're buying me a brandy."

"You're on." Kel said.

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Roxy Dee laterrapincabesa
Date: Wed Mar 28, 2007 11:46 am Subject: The Wave Of Change

Kel Brackett decided on a light Chardonnay and tuna fillet.

Salad was far from the menu choices of the gang who ate typically firefighter with steak, heaping potatoes and...

"Brussel sprouts..." said Chet, resting the butts of his knife and fork on the fine white dining cloth under his plate.

Gage made a face. "Brussel sprouts?!"

Kelly ignored him.

Roy answered on his behalf. "Sure. Why not? They're healthy."

Johnny kept right on eating his hamburger cordon bleu, looking both chipmunk cheeked and incredulous. "But this is vacation." he insisted. "Chet, you're supposed to be indulging yourself."

"According to Dr. Morton,..I AM." said Chet, glaring a little. He had nothing else in front of him except black coffee and the bowlful of tiny steaming cabbages.

Cap buried his mouth in his hand and spoke under his breath.
"Oh, no. Not the great crash diet again.." he murmured. ::He's NOT gonna drag me into that whole deal again.:: he thought firmly.

No one heard him. Luckily.

Chet was amenable and not once did he enter his usual defensive mode. "Johnny, look. I promise I'll order some key lime pie and a small snack afterwards. Limes are low on polyunsaturated fats." he grinned broadly.

Now the others were making faces of distaste, too as Chet shovelled in a large spoonful of what looked like rabbit food.

Dixie fought to keep from giggling as she set her heated Brandy snifter back down onto the table. She pegged Stoker with a stare. "So, Mike, am I finally going to learn what you do for a hobby when you're off duty this trip? Or is that going to remain one of the great mysteries of the ages." she teased.

Stoker glanced up from the porterhouse that he was wolfing down in unrealized haste out of force of habit. " Oh, is that all you wanted to know? All you had to do was ask." he said straight faced. He went back to eating without replying for several long seconds until a good natured grin bubbled to the surface underneath Dixie's cool but half impatient scrutiny. "I invent things. But they never usually amount to much when I finally do get done tinkering with them." he admitted.

"What kinds of things?" McCall said, nibbling on a breadstick over her plate full of penne pasta, olive oil and basil.

"Anything that helps fight fires." he offered easily, stretching in his chair. "The chief throws open invention contests every once in a while to see what we regular guys might come up with that might better the department in some way."

Marco sniggered. "Yeah, like Chet's human fly shoes." he laughed. "Aren't they the trendy thing nowadays at the carnival's fun house with all the kids? I hear they walk all over the rotating tunnel tube with them on while they're wearing whole body safety pads and hockey helmets."

"Oh, oh..really?" Dixie said, not being able to come up with anything else to say that wasn't going to sound impolite in some way.

Hank wiped his mouth on a napkin, and leaned forward proudly.
"They earn about fifteen dollars every week for the heart association charity on behalf of Station 51."

"Aww, that's sweet, Kelly. I didn't know you had a charity streak a mile wide."
said Dixie thoughtful.

Kelly kept right on chewing, pointedly ignoring everybody. But then he stopped, letting out a long, painful sigh. "Believe me, it wasn't intentional. I was aiming along the same lines as Stoker was about coming up with new firefighting inventions. Only it didn't work out that way."

Dixie blinked, smiling gently. "Seems to me that things worked out just perfectly, Chet. I'm real proud of ya. That took guts not trying to market those shoes as a new toy line." she said, offering him a friendly toast with her nursed drink.

Chet's face fell into one of instant dismay. "Wait a.. wait a minute.. as toys?"
he said, pushing a half chewed sprout out of his mouth onto his plate, licking his fingers.

Roy DeSoto handed Kelly an elegant copper ring rolled cloth napkin without looking.

Kel Brackett suddenly changed the subject. "Who brought their skis?"

"I did.."
"I did..."
"Me, too." said a chorus of replies.

Kelly gave up what could have been a nasty case of hindsight.
He sighed sadly. "Not me. I have to go rent mine."

"How come?" Brackett asked. "I thought you were an avid skier."

"I am. I have five sets of water skis in the storage shed at my apartment." said Chet. "I...just kinda.. well... I lost my snow set last month." he said quickly, gulping down the last of his coffee.

Roy craftily gave him more so he could fortify himself for the next question to come.

Kel was curious. "Oh, yeah? What happened to them?" he asked.

Chet met Brackett's eyes but couldn't make his mouth work quite enough to answer him effectively due to a lingering sense of embarassment.

Hank let Chet off the hook gently. "He used the wrong wax on them, doc.
I'm afraid they got ruined during an inadvertant cleaning session." Stanley bailed.

Next to him, Marco pantomimed something going up in smoke in a big silent fireball much to Chet's dismay, but the dinner picking doctor and nurse failed to make the connection as they emptied their plates of food hungrily.

Mike Stoker took heart. "Say, Doctor Brackett, is it true that paramedics can work anywhere in the lower forty eight states now, free and clear,
as long as they have a doctor on the line?"

Roy and Johnny tried not to look surprised. They both realized then that they had forgotten to read the new memo on the announcement board at the station posted that very morning.

"They can." Brackett said. "After all, I can. Why shouldn't they? It didn't make sense to keep a paramedic so limited in his scope of practice inside a restricted service area. In fact, it was the Los Angeles County Fire Department that showed me and the powers that be exactly how much moving around their medic firefighters actually do in any given fire season."

Cap looked up from his mashed potatoes. "You mean because of all our brush fire assignments we get every year."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." said Kel. "When Chief Houts came to me and showed me how often you men were jumping the county and state lines because of firestorm duties, I just had to go to legislation about it. Immediately."

"Why worry about it so fast?" Johnny asked. "The old system works pretty well."

Chet piped up. "Not really, not if you're stuck out of state in the middle of a desert along a rural highway." Kelly still remembered the fishing trip where Roy, Johnny and he encountered a traffic accident with a jugular stabbed little boy and his injured mother. It had happened the same week as Johnny's almost fatal rattlesnake bite.

"We got to a phone, Chet." Gage said, glancing at him.

"Yeah, but don't you remember how steamed you got at first? Morton couldn't issue I.V. orders to you when we needed them and it was only Doc Frick walking in physically who saved the day for us." Chet said.

Johnny squinted as he remembered back.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Guess I was so worried about the kid I forgot how frustrated I was." Johnny said. "I guess a change in practice was necessary."

Brackett set down his fork and balled up his napkin onto his plate.
"Oh, it was. Think about it, Johnny. A paramedic is an acting extension of his overseeing medical physician's license. Why should he be restricted where he can practice that emergency medicine, as long there's a biophone or landline open, just because he's across a city or county or state's recognized lines?" Brackett countered. "It didn't make sense to limit one and not the other when we're already working so closely together on every rescue call."

"Well that makes sense." said Hank. "What took them so long to realize that fact?"

Brackett shrugged.

DeSoto was still acting surprised.
"I wasn't aware that all you physicians can work over state lines now. The AMA must have instigated that, thinking that we, in our branch of EMS, didn't need to know about it yet. Is there some kind of new agency or committee that overseeing all of these new changes for our fire station's level of involvement?" Roy asked Kel.

"There sure is. That's the subject of the next meeting I've scheduled for Monday morning. Guess you both forgot to read the new notice on your way out the door."
he teased."It's called the National Registry of Emergency Medical 're becoming THE testing and sole recertification body that'll handle all relicensing and new registration country wide at both the EMT and paramedic levels so area hospitals won't need to follow up on that kind of paperwork themselves anymore." he smiled. "The agency will officially become testing ratified in four years. What we're entering now, is a trial period. The agency itself formed in 1970, but didn't have any real committee power available until I and others stepped in and got attention redirected and focused on them."

"1980... I can hardly wait. That sounds like an eternity from now."
DeSoto leaned back in his chair, nursing his dark beer glass thoughtfully.
"We're growing up so fast. Seems like just yesterday when it was just me and Johnny,
Ben Stone's crew and Craig Brice's crew as the only paramedic rescue squads out there in existence."

"Time flies when you're having fun." Dixie demurred, curling up into her chair as she pushed her empty pasta bowl away.

Kel Brackett smiled softly, very pleased with their situation, saying little.
He only nodded in agreement. But then he spoke. "Relax, Roy. We've got the most important thing in operation that matters now." he said, finishing his wine.
"The fact that we can work EMS anywhere we happen to be, so long as we're still in direct communication with each other, is a big one in the bag." he grinned crookedly.
-

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy theaterhost
Subject: That's The Name Of The Game Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 9:19 am

About twenty minutes later, Chet scraped the last of the whipped topping off his dessert plate. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at the waitron who came to collect his dishes."Sir, I'll take that special order now.
Anytime's cool." Kelly said.

"Very good, sir." replied the black jacketted bow tied man.
"I'll bring it directly. Oh, thank you, miss." he said when Dixie handed him her empty brandy glass and some more dishes that she had gathered up from the others.

"Dixie. You're not at home being a party host. Leave those be."
Kel teased her, a little sharply.

"Says who? Here, I AM the party. Well, at least, part of it anyway."
she declared happily and the others hear hear'd her sentiment.

In high spirits, the gang was still heavy into animated conversation due to mutual sugar rushes from either sweets or modest amounts of alcohol and their chatter really filled the room. But soon, somnolence from the richness of their meals tempered them into quiet periods of reflection. That was when they noticed that they were the just about the last chalet guests left in the whole restaurant apart from a mother and child pair catching a late snack by the live feed TV monitor. It was showing a graceful line of night time resort skiers descending the highest slopes in a midnight display of brightly lit hand held flares, one in each hand.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Dixie exclaimed, pointing to it.

"Umm, hmm. Beautiful.. They do this on every clear night, according to the front desk." said Brackett.

"No, I don't mean them, I mean all that steam pouring out of their mouths. They must be freezing to death out there skiing so fast in all this cold." McCall clarified, shivering anew.

"Dix, don't watch. Here. Take my coat." said Brackett laughing, as he peeled out of his jacket to give to her. "It sounds like it's time for you to rejoin those toasty flames by the fireplace."

"Not in here, though. Looks like they're about ready to close up. I can go back to the lobby in a few minutes when everybody's through with their cocktails."

"Suit yourself. Keep that for now to ward off the chills." Kel, said, sitting back down and readjusting his tie so it stayed off the table top.

The waiter returned with Chet's after dinner repast, a box of Cracker Jacks, purchased from the gift shop down the hall. With relish, the man tore open the box deftly with napkined wrapped fingers. "Oh, excellent choice, sir. I indulge once in a while with these myself." he admitted bending close. "Ma'am. Please stay." he addressed Dixie. "The kitchen may close at midnight, but not the bar." he winked. "That closes at one. So please, make yourselves comfortable. I think we're empty because everyone else turned in a bit early to catch advantage of the ideally angled early sun tomorrow morning on the higher slopes." Once the box was de-lidded, he handed the whole snack over to Chet with a smile.

Marco noticed what Chet had ordered. "Gage's slider was way better than those things. Don't tell me Cracker Jacks are your idea of getting something else good to eat."

"Sure they are. Very high in fiber and I think you already know the best part about getting some of these babies." he said, digging his fingers inside eagerly. He grunted a little when he didn't find the prize packet that he knew was in there. The grinding noise continued and everyone around the table was soon strangely mesmerized by the undecided issue. Kelly grew more and more frustrated with his search until Gage threw out his hand. "Chet, give it here. I'll find it."

"NoOOOoo." said Kelly, protectively drawing the cracker jack box to himself.
"I don't want your grimy hands all over my food. Go away."

Johnny pursed his lips."I'm not gonna paw your kernels. I got tools."
he said, flipping open his jacket. He was wearing his paramedic holster kit.

Roy chuckled. "Did you forget to take that off in your hurry to meet us at the airport?"

Gage shot him an irritated look. "Something like that." he said, drawing out a pair of long Magill forceps. He did a double take when he caught his partner still regarded him with amusement. "Ok, all right. I'll admit it. My holster's like a watch. I really notice it when I'm not wearing one and it drives me up a tree. I hate the sensation I get when I take it off."

Brackett started chuckling and moved his head aside, showing everyone the ear pieces of a stethoscope sticking out of his shirt. "I got the same problem.
Shh..." he said, hiding them again inside of his collar. "Don't feel bad, Johnny.
I'm exactly the same way."

"No fooling?" Gage asked him, really not believing.

"No fooling." Kel told him, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, and Kel probably wears that in the shower, too." Dix guffawed, enjoying the secret revealed tidbit about her best friend.

Chet smirked, eyeing up the room. "Anyone else in here packing anything? Come on, now. It's time to 'fess up."

"I brought a pocket mask." said Roy. "But that's in my suitcase."

"I got my swiss army knife. Can't leave the station without having it." Hank admitted.

"Every guy's got a pocket knife on him somewhere, Cap. That's nothing oddball." Chet teased. "You're fine." he waved in dismissal.

Marco displayed a couple of bandaids and a St. Christopher's medal, and Stoker, a favorite chrome polishing rag.

Kelly held up his lucky rabbit's foot. Then he looked up expectantly. "Dix? What have you got that you couldn't leave home without?"

McCall hugged her purse. "My traveler's checks?" she offered lamely,
still guarding her belongings.

The gang winced and groaned at the pun.

Kel made a face and plucked the handbag out of her grip in high amusement. She didn't resist the stealing but she did cover her eyes in acute embarrassment.

Dr. Brackett looked down inside of it once he opened the top. "Uh huh.." he coughed in discovery, peering inside closely. "Just what have we here?" he said, extending the suspense with a nosy grin.

Johnny chuckled as he expertly dug around Chet's cracker jacks with his Magills by tool touch alone. He was biting his lip as he felt their sensitivity as he probed.
"Ah, there it is.." he said, drawing out the paper and foil toy packet deftly.
He held it out by the probe tips to Chet who snatched it free happily.

"You did that without looking?" Chet exclaimed.

"Course I did. There isn't much looking you CAN do whenever you find yourself stuck using one of these things." Johnny shared, restabbing the forceps deep into the box before he plunked both the box and embedded tool down onto the table top.

"That's right." Roy agreed.

"Not unless you have a laryngoscope, too." Brackett added, still admiring the contents of Dixie's wool woven purse.

Chet became lost in the mystery of his unopened prize. "Gee, thanks, Johnny."

Kel made an announcement. "Everybody, let's have a drum roll, please. I found it." Then he pulled out something very familiar and set it onto the table dramatically. "She brought... her rolodex.."

"My spare.." Dix said, turning the dial so all of the phone cards flipped around on the wheel. "Well... I...never know when I'm gonna have to call Betty or one of the other nurses this weekend for something I forgot to tell them to do at work while I'm gone."

Roy grinned at her. "You know what they always say..Once a head nurse..."

"No, once a fire fighter..." Chet corrected him.

"Or a paramedic..." said Gage, pointing to the tool embedded in the box sitting in front of him.

"Or a doctor.." Kel said, ending the irony. Then he held up his finger. "Waiter.
Can we grab our bills, please?"

The whole gang dissolved in fits of shared laughter and they admired everybody's away from the work place pacifiers in high amusement.

But then their happy sounds were suddenly jarred by those of someone in dire respiratory distress, someone very young, suffering high pitched vocal stridor.

They whirled back towards the outdoor monitor lounge only to see a frightening sight. A little boy had crossed wrapped his hands around his throat. He was fighting to breathe in desperately. The child was doing it, but barely.

The station and Rampart bunch got to their feet fast, hurrying to the small family's side. Roy knelt by the child and asked. "Son, are you choking? Can you speak?"
The boy didn't answer but he kept right on coughing. He didn't protest being sat on Roy's crouched knee. "That's ok, just keep trying to get the air in a little better. Keep coughing as long as you can. We're here to help you." Roy said, opening the boy's collar a little wider.

Gage moved to a chair and sat down next to his mother. "Ma'am, we're Los Angeles County Paramedics and this, is Dr. Brackett and Nurse McCall from a city hospital. Was he eating something when all this began?"

"No. Yes. Uh, I- I don't know... I.." she panicked. "I wasn't watching him, I was watching the T.V. over there. Oh, please. Tell me what's the matter with him."

"Ma'am, my partner's trying to determine just that. But your son's doing fair for now." Johnny told him. "Just tell me what you do remember."

Nearby, Dixie flagged down the waiter. "Mister, call for your resort's first aid team and their medical gear. This boy's in serious trouble."

"Uh,.. well, we don't have them inside right now. They're way up there on the peak on med standby for the pyro display people going down the mount-"

"Ok, call for an ambulance crew. Or your fire department. Whoever's closer."
she ordered.

"Right away." he said, rushing off with one more worried glance back at the cluster of people surrounding the suffocating child. "But I really don't know how to contact them."

"Show me your phone. I do." said McCall and she followed him out of the room.

Dr. Brackett drew out his stethoscope and listened fast over the boy's lungs. "They're fluid free. Whatever's effecting him is all upper respiratory. Roy keep him in whatever position is the best for his own expelling attempts. Don't intervene yet." he shouted over the boy's loud strangling noises. "His color and consciousness level are still holding."

"Ma'am, how old is your son?" DeSoto asked, gently calming the boy with a supporting bear hug. He left his chin resting lightly in the boy's hair to show him that he was still there close by.

"He's four.." she answered. "His name's Bobby."

"Bobby, you're doing real good. I know you're scared right now but your mom's still right here beside you. Just keep coughing, hard as you can." Roy nodded as he watched the others move the rest of the audience chairs out of the way and cleared some floor space under a light source. DeSoto loosened the child's dress pants belt buckle and used the move to get a respirations count. Gage took up a grip on one of the boy's wrists for a pulse quality check. "Doc, it's one fifty. Rising."

Roy added another detail. "Twenty eight. Inspirations are more problematic than exhalations. But he's not barreling out any, at all."

"Thanks." said Brackett from where he knelt on his knees listening to the boy's breath sounds.

Dixie returned quickly. "Kel, they're on the way. Both the chalet's medical team and the local FD and ambulance company. The resort folks have oxygen."

"Perfect. Just what I wanted to hear. Where from and exactly when are they all due in?" Brackett asked, keeping a close eye on the boy as he struggled to breathe enough to fill his chest.

"The team? From the mountain top, on skis. ETA a minute and a half. They have radios tuned to the hotel front desk. Their El Dorado County rig is driving in with an ALS crew based out of Placerville Medical Center, a level two trauma facility in four, and the Meeks Bay Volunteer Fire Department will be roaring in here in three. They're based right around the corner on the point overlooking the lake." Dixie recited from a hotel stationery pad. "A Terry G. Murphy, is the M.D. on call tonight and the Base Hospital Coordinator is Tamara Burns, an R.N. He knows we're coming." she added.

"Okay. Good." Then Kel sat in a chair by the mother. "Ma'am, help's on the way so try to calm down. I need you to answer a few questions. Has Bobby been sick recently with a cold or flu?" he asked, thinking about the possibility of croup or epiglottitis.

"I'm not sure. Frank has the most time with him. He has partial legal custody. Um, I get Bobby only on the weekends. But I know my son doesn't have asthma. All this is new tonight. Oh, G*d. Please, Bobby. Please be all right." she begged.

Dixie took her by the shoulders gently. "These two with Bobby are the best paramedics we have back in L.A. and they work everyday handling emergencies just like this one. They'll make sure Bobby stays breathing and they'll fix anything they find that's not going normally as soon as it happens. So relax and try to answer Dr. Brackett's questions as thoroughly as you can. It's important." said McCall, taking the mother's hand. "We have to know for sure what the problem is here so we don't cause any more that we haven't found out about yet, to act up in a worse way."

Johnny felt the boy's head and face. "Doc, he's not hot at all. Nor is he shocky."

Kel nodded. "Look for signs of growing anaphylaxis anyway. This might be a first time onset, just beginning."

"Or a food obstruction." Roy guessed.

Brackett regarded DeSoto thoughtfully, thinking. "Keep an eye out for a foreign body appearing in his mouth. Yours was my original thought, too. There's a basket of pretzels sitting right here."

"Right, doc." they both answered.

A few seconds later, the boy began gagging weakily and his wheezes suddenly dropped off horribly into silence.

"Bobby?!" Roy yelled, as the child start to panic kick. "He's blocked off completely, Johnny."

"Got him?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah.."

And Roy started to perform sub-diaphragmatic abdominal thrusts in a modified force-careful Heimlich maneuver with two gripped palms laced near the boy's navel.

Kel Brackett shot up out of his chair. "Roy, keep at it. Gage, a minute after he goes unconscious, let's move him to our dining room table so we can use those Magills. When we get him over there, tip his head back over the edge after a ventilation and re-positioning attempt. Use those forceps only if you see something."

"Aghh.. doc. He's going out.." Roy hissed.
Bobby's muscles began to noodle and Roy slid him down his body onto the floor. He shifted his clearing maneuvers from his bear hug to leg straddling abdominal ones once Marco had carefully lowered the boy's head to neutral on his back. After the third attempt of clearing with the boy lying down, they all heard a gush of sound erupt out Bobby's lips. "Something gave way." DeSoto said urgently.

Quickly, Johnny, Cap and Stoker scooped up the blue turning boy and hurried with him across the room. Hank cleared the remaining dishes noisily out of the way with a sweep of his arm. Brackett joined them.

Chet Kelly looked up and saw two flares growing larger through the windows framing the overview looking up the snow covered mountain. "Here they come. And they're fully laden."

"I'll go meet them at the fire exit across the room." said Marco, stepping away to meet the outdoor first aid team.

"Disable the fire alarm before you open the door. Last thing we need is an inadvertant hotel evacuation." Hank said.

"It's off." said Marco, using a rod from a no smoking sign to depress the cancel button on the door unit's shrieker. He propped it open with a chair and began letting in the cold night air and falling snowflakes. The team skied right into the carpetted room on top of the snow they were dragging underneath their treads.

The head first aider pulled off his goggles. "Thanks, mister. Close it up. This is everybody." he said of himself and his female partner as he peeled off his large medical backpack. They rapidly got out of their parkas and kicked off their skis haphazardly next to the restaurant fireplace using their ski poles.

Roy met them halfway. "It's the boy. Get out your manual support O2. He's food choking." he said, pushing chairs out of their way.

"Who are you people exactly?" asked the man.

"Two paramedics, a nurse and a doctor. This is Bobby's mother." DeSoto told him.

"Ok, let's go handle him." said the leader. "I'm a paramedic, too. My partner's an EMT Basic."

"These others are firefighters." Roy clarified even more.

"Man, is he lucky." said the woman. "How's he doing?" she said, digging into her pack for airway gear.

"Don't know yet." replied Roy.

Mike Stoker looked up from the hold he had on the boy's head. "Repositioning's not working... No chest rise either." he said, lifting his mouth away from the boy's nose and hypoxia darkened mouth. Together, he and Johnny dragged Bobby towards them by the back of his shirt collar until his head tipped chin up over the edge of the table and hung down limply.

"He's still got a pulse." Hank said, gripping the boy's upper arm. Then he watched as Marco grabbed a nearby table lamp and pulled off its tasseled shade down to the bare bulb. "No response to pain." Cap said digging in a few knuckles against Bobby's sternum as he climbed up onto the table to straddle the boy's legs with his knees. He placed his hands in a ready position for further abdominal thrusts,
paused for the word to start up on them again.

"Wait up on those, Cap. Let me look next." Johnny told Cap.

"Johnny..." Roy prompted.

"Whaa?"

"Did you hear?"

"Oh. Yeah. I did. Ok, fully unconscious. Apneic only. Marco, put that light right behind my shoulder. Yeah, just like that." Gage said as he snatched the Magills out of the Cracker Jack box swiftly. No one noticed the popped sugar corn spraying out all over the table in haste as it tipped over onto its side. Johnny opened Bobby's jaws wide with cross scissored fingers as he peered inside behind the boy's soft palate. "Mike lift his lower jaw and his tongue way up high. I can't see anything."

Mike did so, with a hooked thumb and pressure whitening fingers, firmly pinching.

"Starting cricoid pressure in case we make him sick monkeying with his mouth." Cap said, reaching his thumb and forefinger around the boy's neck cartilage ring in a Sellick's maneuver. He bore down on it an inch, then he didn't move.

Brackett moved over to the medical team. "Do you have suction?"

"Yes. Blue pack." replied the woman. "In the largest compartment. Laerdal self powered. You must be our doc, eh?"

"I am, until you reach yours over the radio. Let me know when you've got that tube out. Stand by with a demand valve. Johnny gets one try to pull whatever this thing is out. Then we'll work him more. He's been totally obstructed for only two minutes." Brackett told them. "We still have time. Pulse's holding. Could one of you two monitor that apically? Here, use mine. It's already out." he said tugging his stethoscope off from around his neck to give to them.

The male first aider took it.

Then they moved nearer to Roy and Gage.

The woman used a few waiting seconds to open up the boy's shirt the rest of the way, exposing his cyanosis mottled chest. "Still no breathing."
she announced to the unfamiliar Native American at the boy's head.
"Ok, suction's ready."

"Almost there." Gage said, tense. "It's right.. above... the vocal cords."

"What is it?" she asked.

"A button. Without any holes."

"Can you grab it?" Brackett asked helping to hold the boy's shoulders still.

"Yeah. I think so.. Hang on while I..." Johnny grunted, adjusting the Magills gripping shaft a little deeper into the boy's throat. "..I almost...got...a ..
grip on it. "

"Pulse's getting irregular." announced the mountain first aider man,
from where he was listening with his stethoscope's drum placed a little to the side and below the boy's left breast along the ribcage.

Brackett barked out an order.
"Set up a monitor and your defibrillator. Can you adjust down to a 100 joules delivery?"

"Yes." replied the woman. "We handle pediatric drownings during the summers."

"Turn it on. I won't use it unless I have to. He's a little on the small side." Brackett said. "What kind of meds do you have?"

"Type three ACLS drug box." replied the man.

"Get a 0.5 mg/ml dose of a 1:1000 S.Q. epinephrine injection ready. We'll save his I.V. NS for last and establish one only if he crashes fully rhythm wise." Kel said.

Johnny let out the breath he had been holding explosively.
"Cap, let him go. It's out." Gage announced loudly, drawing the offending object away from the boy's mouth on his Magills. "And he didn't vomit."

Stanley sighed in relief as he climbed down to the floor again.

"I got him covered." said the woman EMT as she placed a small firm rubber mask over the boy's face and started feeding breaths into the boy. "Nice job. Buttons are real hard." she remarked to Johnny. "I'm getting good chest rise here." she told everyone as she used the resort's thumb trigger resuscitator with the lightest of pure oxygen ventilations. "No distention evident."

Bobby's colored pinked up and his fingers began to twitch on the table cloth.
A minute later, the boy began to breathe on his own with occasional coughing.
"How is he?" Bobby's mother asked, her voice hitching as she fretted.

"Ma'am. It looks like he's going to be just fine. He's already waking up for us."
smiled Dr. Brackett as he studied the EKG monitor Marco had hooked up.
"Everything's reading normally for this particular stage of recovery. Guys,
let's cancel that epinephrine. He won't be needing it."

The resort paramedic pulled out his radio."Team Ouray to Meeks Bay Rescue Medic Three. Return. Situation is resolved. No cardiac arrest. Our ambulance is en route."

##We copy you, Ouray.## said the dispatcher. ##Placer County Sheriff's Office, Lake Tahoe, ST-51 signing off.##

"Want this as a souvenir?" Chet asked as he prised the button off the clamped Magills. He held it out to mom with puppy dog eyes, breaking the last of her tension.

The mother tumbled into relief, holding up her son's chair perched outer coat. "It's from his dress jacket. I knew I should have gotten him some gum.
He's always likes chewing on things. Ever since he was a baby." she said, taking it to put in the coat's pocket for later resewing.

Cap offered the mother a chair and a glass of water. "He might be old enough now to get a piece of gum every so often. I know I started my kids off on some at about his age for the same reason. My daughter was the worst. She liked sucking on grapes of all things. Calling the rescue squad became a weekly routine for a while there until she outgrew it." He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Captain Stanley, Hank's my first, of Fire Station 51 in Carson. I believe you already met my men. This is Chet, Marco, Roy, Johnny and Mike."

"Glad to meet all of you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't have been here." she said, beginning to weep again as she returned the handshake.
"I'm Annabel Laughs-At-Cranes."

Johnny's head lifted at the name as he recognized her nationality. "Oh, you're Native? So am I. But I'm not a full blood, I'm only half." he grinned, watching as Roy and the female resort EMT took a blood pressure on Bobby. He was now being supported upright in DeSoto's lap as he blinked back into full wakefulness. Soon, he was placed on a regular pediatric non-rebreather oxygen mask as his fast breathing began to slow down again.

"I'm a quarter." she replied. "And Bobby's an eighth. We were celebrating his tribe naming day this evening. And it was wonderful, but then this happened to mess it up." she sobbed.

Cap gripped her shoulder and squeezed it in support.
"It's all right. Go ahead and cry. Sometimes things are just meant to be, that's all."
Cap told her with a grin. "In this case, things worked out just fine."

"I'm sorry. I-"

"..Mommy?" asked the boy as he suddenly regained focus. "My throat hurts."
he mumbled through the mask Roy was holding over his nose and mouth.

Annabel broke off her sentence and rushed over to sit on the table edge so she could hug her son tightly. "Oh, baby. You had me so worried. How are you feeling now?"

"Ok, I guess." he said as he felt himself placed in his mother's arms by Roy and Marco and getting covered up with a spare table cloth.

"Why did you have to suck on that button? I've told you a million times what might happen if you did that." she said, brushing sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"I won't do it again. I promise..*cough** cough*" Bobby said. "Can we go up to our hotel room now?"

Dr. Brackett had been speaking with the two resort rescuers. "Annabel, this is Paramedic Ryan Shreve and his EMT partner Nicole Skoloda. They work here for Meeks Bay Resort on the ski patrol. They've been in touch with their medical director via radio and they've certain protocols they have to follow now to ensure the continued well being of your son. Would you listen to them for a few minutes?
They're the ones who'll be taking over Bobby's emergency treatment now."

"Sure. Sure.." she sniffled. "I can do that. What do they have to say to me?"

"They'll tell you. I'm not that familiar with how their medical service functions with regard to medical releases or transporting patients in this part of the state. That's probably most likely what they're going to be talking to you about. All right?"

"Ok." said Annabel. "And thank you so much." she said tearfully grateful, gripping Kel's hand. "Bobby, stay right here with these firemen.
I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay mom. I'm sort of tired anyway."

She turned to meet her snowy benefactors.

Chet ambled up to Cap, Roy and Johnny. "So, how's the little guy doing?"

"He's gonna be ok." said Roy, grinning. "He was very lucky that button didn't get deep inside a lung somewhere."

"Yeah, that would have meant chest cracking surgery." Gage sympathized.

"Really? Huh. Ouch." said Kelly, thinking about it as he rubbed his own.
The three started walking away, but Chet held them back with a hand.
"Say, you'll never guess what I just overheard on one of their radios."

"What'd ya hear?" Hank asked.

"The call number of their station headquarters in Tahoe City."

"Oh, yeah? What was it?" asked Johnny. "007's?" he snickered.

"No. Get out. It was Station 51, man. Same as ours." Chet shared creepily.

"For real?" Gage gaped.

"Yeah, go ask that Nicole chick if you don't believe me." Kelly said. "You like her, don't you? I can tell." he winked.

Johnny shot him a dirty look and shooed him away to go watch for the ambulance attendants arrival to their dining room.

Kelly stopped in his tracks when he spied a fresh red cloth covered serving tray jack parked neatly at the entrance leading into the dining room.

On it, was a brand new Cracker Jacks box, already opened and ready for eating. ::Oh, geez- ! Now I got two prizes!:: he thought excitedly.
::You help somebody out of a rough spot and you can literally plan on getting rewarded every time. That's the name of the game.:: he celebrated, grabbing it up and munching happily.

Photos: None.

*********************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy theaterhost Portions tandem written with J. Katz kajakat or Judy Theis jukier about four year ago. Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 9:24 am Subject: Powder Service..

Johnny scrubbed his hair down well after his shower the next morning in Roy, Chet and his's hotel room. "You know, that team we met last night? They were really well prepared. I've never even heard of a ski patrol trained in at the ACLS paramedic level."

Kelly scoffed, brushing his teeth at the sink. "What? You think all they should have are a couple of leg splints, a toboggan stretcher and a St. Bernard carrying a keg of brandy around his neck?"

"No... Geez, Chet. I mean I thought the fire department was the only service who had some of us working for them." he said, passing a hand between him and Roy to mean paramedics.

Roy was sitting on one of the beds pulling on some clean wool socks.
"And why not private businesses, too? The fire department doesn't hold the only monopoly on getting near sick and hurt people. It was bound to happen someday. They probably even planned it that way. Quite frankly, I'm glad paramedic services are starting to branch out. And I think I saw it coming, too. I read about a new kind of paramedic team answering a medical emergency on a fishing trawler way out at sea."

"Oh, yeah? Who were they with?" Kelly asked.

"The Coast Guard." DeSoto replied.

"Nice. They get to fly, what, almost every day? Just picture the kinds of calls they get." Johnny said with admiration. "Burns, trauma, sudden foreign illnesses,
food born related ailments, trench foot."

"Trench foot?" asked Kelly.

"Well, yeah. Don't fishermen stand in brine for most of the day catching fish?"
Gage wondered.

Roy rubbed his nose sleepily. "Johnny, I think that might be a stereotype.
You're thinking about World War 1."

Johnny nodded at the correction. "I am? Oh."

"Huh, I still think Johnny's nuts to stay shocked that we're no longer the only service paramedic bound." Kelly concluded, throwing on his ski jacket. He gathered up his ski boots and rentals along with poles and made for the door. "See you guys, later."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Chet. Did you remember your room key?!"
Gage shouted, but the door had already resounded with a solid thud as it slammed shut in its housing. "He'll never learn." he said, holding up the third electronic key card into the mirror so Roy could see it.

"The room's in his name. He can always get a new one swiped in at the front desk." DeSoto suggested, tying on his boots. "I'm ready to start heading out myself."

Johnny, still in his bathing towel, smirked. "Huh, now just where are you off to so fast? I know you don't like to ski almost as much as Dixie does."

"I'm going hiking in Desolation. Doctor Brackett is coming with me."

"In isolation?"

"No, Johnny. In Desolation. Desolation Wilderness. That's the name of the natural area they've set aside for just the animals and backpacking hikers. No vehicles are allowed inside a hundred square miles surrounding this entire place. We've booked a guided tour up Meeks Bay Trailhead. It's gonna be just the three of us."

"Oh, yeah? How far is that going to be? Sounds like it's bound to get a little rough and tough."

DeSoto shrugged. "I've already talked to a few locals...
They say it's just a moderate hike that takes you along the northern most part of the unofficial Tahoe-Yosemite Trail. After following a road for approximately 1.3 miles, the trail passes a small spring, parallels Meeks Creek and continues upward into a forested valley. A chain of alpine lakes runs alongside of you before the trail ascends 1,000 feet up a series of switchbacks leading to Phipps Pass. All total about 22 miles round trip."

"Sounds kinda snowy."

"It is, this time of year. But the rangers are saying there are no storms in sight for up there. At least, not until later tonight. We're gonna get up to the starting point by alpine ski lift. Wanna come? They allow horses from the resort's stables to come along. All they have to do is carry a few safety packs.
We're gonna have a mule with us doing the same thing."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna copy Chet's idea and.. go on a few runs. Those ski slopes out there are sounding mighty appealing right about now." Johnny said, thinking about Nicole of the Ouray Mountain Ski Patrol.

"Umm hmm, so she IS working today. I see. I think I get it." DeSoto teased,
throwing on his ski jacket and wool hat.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Have fun." Roy said, leaving the room. "And yes, I have my room key."
And with that, he left the room.

"Say, Roy.." Johnny began a little distractedly as he dried off his hair some more.
"Don't forget your room key.." he mumbled underneath his head towel.

Mike Stoker was in seventh heaven. He figured he had everything just about perfect in their campsite within the heart of the Desolation Wilderness Park. He and Marco were roughing it on the gang's collectively rented camping spot, Peg 51.

The rows of pines framing the snowy mountains were a picture postcard vision. The lake was a crystalline jewel, and the air, like crisp cold wine.

Now, even the wind was perfect, blowing his cooking fire's smoke away from their two winter tents, and already five huge speckled trout sizzled on the pan.

Stoker chuckled.

It was a running joke between all of them on A shift how their shared ski vacation spot had even been located. Marco laughed, remembering the kindly sheriff that Roy and Johnny had met on a wild weekend of off duty rescues a few years ago.

Then, the sheriff promised the two L.A. paramedics a good fishing spot in return for their unofficial duty time donated to Santa Rosa County, after they had spent the better part of their only two vacation days saving a badly burned boat accident victim and then a rock climbing teen.

The sheriff had showed them a map of this place, Peg 51. And the rest of the gang fell absolutely in love with "The Spot." Eventually, they dragged most of Rampart's Emergency staff and their families to camp there over subsequent winters until all of them were caught up inside The Spot's special magic, too. The park officials got very used to writing down, 'Peg 51. Reserved, for Station 51' in their reservation logs.

But Stoker knew that one weekend was always reserved for Roy and Johnny exclusively.
The anniversary of Roy and Johnny's fateful Santa Rosa fishing weekend, the day they had met the kindly Sheriff and shared bowls of cabin cafe chili with him in the park's lodge. They had created a new mutual tradition of fishing, hang gliding, hiking and relaxing for the occasion.

Stoker took in a deep breath of the heady scent of the Ponderosa pines and fresh ice and sighed. He remembered back to the conversation that he had overheard about twenty hours earlier, as he flipped succulent fillets around on their sticks. The fire before him was crackling almost as much as the crunching snow beneath his feet. "Hey Marco, lunch's ready."

But a snore peeled out from behind him, making Mike smile.

Stoker thought back in time.. to the locker room at Station 51.

It was only yesterday morning, that Roy wasn't keen to go up to The Spot even when Johnny reminded him of their usual additional camping reservation. "Don't tell me you forgot about the thing we do, too, during our big ski trip weekend, Roy."

"No. I didn't forget. I just... changed my mind that's all. It's October. The nights are going to be really cold up there. We've had a really hellish week with fire calls and I'm too sore to hang glide decently. And your lungs are still a little too sooty. So, no. I..don't want to go up that far this time...I just want to hang around the fringes closest to the resort. So go ahead give the tag to Stoker and Lopez. It's their turn to get away up there anyway. Besides, I wanna just coast physically." he lied.

"Come on, Roy.." John said as they changed out of their uniforms for street clothes. "A-shift's ended. And I know you didn't do anything else big this week. Joanne and the kids are with Grandma DeSoto in Utah." he guessed.

Roy looked at his partner in surprise. "How'd you find that out?"

John smiled, saying nothing, tapping his temple significantly.

DeSoto smiled, "Clairvoyant, huh? Oh, I see. More likely you drove by the house and saw the usual strewn bikes and basketballs cleaned up out of the yard and the missing station wagon on your way to the coffee shop."

John's triumphant smile fell. "How'd you know that?" he said, buttoning up his plaid shirt.

It was Roy's turn to tap his forehead secretively. He waited a minute before letting Johnny off the hook. "I heard your jeep backfire as you kicked it into third gear when you drove by this morning... Unmistakable sound, that. Woke the neighbor, too. Crazy old Mr. Fosche called me at five oh two, three seconds after I was jolted out of bed. He was thoroughly convinced that a flying saucer from Area 51 was crash landing down the block."

Johnny ignored the odd neighbor angle. "My jeep doesn't backfire.. I keep it perfectly tuned." Gage insisted.

"Tell that to the average Joe who hears you driving by and you might hear a different story.." Roy grinned. "Besides, you got that ticket from the officer pulling you over for disturbing the peace..."

It was John's turn to be surprised, "How'd you find out about that?!"

"I looked outside my bedroom window and saw the red and blues go off behind your tail lights. Had a h*ll of a time convincing Mr. Fosche that you two weren't the UFO he thought he heard crash landing..."

Gage's face got redder and redder. "Yeah, well it was Vince, and I got only a warning, see?" and he waved the pink warning ticket in his partner's face from his shirt pocket. "Nothing to worry about. We can still hike up north. So why are you really getting cold feet and suddenly changing your mind about us two going on that side trip?"

"I'll tell you why. I didn't get any down time this week work wise and yeah, I literally have cold feet. My shoes are still wet from yesterday's warehouse fire. Again, it's October, like I told ya.. I don't want to catch cold and...I want some solid sleep for once." Roy said ticking off points on his fingers..

"I can drag up the hammock...It's totally comfortable.." Gage interjected..

"...in a warm bed..."

"I got an old Indian trick using heated stones from a fire to keep that hammock nice and toasty."

"...with solid food..."

"Since when have you known The Spot to skunk us trout wise? We'll eat like kings!"

"... and nobody around to bug me." And he stared significantly at his talkative paramedic partner.

Johnny was quiet at that.. "I'll ...I'll give you the first day to play the hermit. I can go off and do my shaman's thing early and you can sway in that hammock to your heart's content... Later, we can do our winter hang gliding thing, ok?"

"Us?.. Doing a hang gliding thing? I thought I was your official cliffside spotter. I haven't been in the air that way in ten years." he said incredulously.

"Come on.. Come fly. I changed my mind about climbing that frozen waterfall."

"Nope."

It was Johnny's turn to narrow his eyes. " I guess that ol' wedding band has made your left hand a little too heavy on the flight bar, eh?"

"Yep."

"Ok. All right. You don't have to fly. I can fly solo for the both of us. What about the rest of it? What do you say...?" And Gage shot Roy his best, crooked smile.

Roy's expression fell dead pan and serious. "Absolutely not. Have fun on your own.
If you don't wanna do that, give The Spot to them."

And so it was, two days later, Marco and Stoker found themselves deep within The Spot inside Desolation Wilderness. ::What a name.:: Stoker thought. ::It so doesn't fit the place.:: he thought to himself.

Lopez was still doing the 'hammock'ville rock'. One snore for every rocking pass.
There was only five hours of daylight left to them. Barely enough time to do a little exploring overland, and the returning hike back into their main camp.

Mike's growling stomach returned immediately when he thought about the time of day.

So Mike shoved the frying pan off the fire, where sweet smelling trout and hickory popped and sizzled in their juices.. and sauntered over to where Marco snoozed under the pines within the canvas hammock, bundled in a down sleeping bag."Sleeping beauty..." he teased. And he waved the pan of mouth-watering trout under his coworker's frosted nose.

But Marco only sawed wood from underneath his wool jacketed arm.

::Nothing.:: Stoker thought. ::Should have brought some smelling salts.::
Grinning, Mike decided to give him twenty minutes more of napping. ::Just enough time for me to get these pinion nuts roasted enough to go with the cornbread.:: he decided.

He retreated back to the fire, weaving around the brightly assembled hang glider of Johnny's in between their cold weather tents.

Mike Stoker sat down on The Spot's rock by the iced over beach and sighed, studying the perfect blue sky above him while he cooked.

Another twenty minutes went by and Mike found he still didn't have the heart to wake his friend. Not everyone had his endless amount of energy and Marco, he couldn't fault. Stoker knew how tired the whole crew had been that week after pulling Johnny out of the warehouse fire with his hide intact.

Mike took the cooked fish and wrapped them in aluminum foil and placed them in the cooler. Hot fish, cold fish, it didn't matter. They would still taste good.
And he and Lopez were finally away from the world for some well-earned time off.

Stoker took a deep breath filling his lungs with the crisp winter air. ::I need coffee.:: he thought. He went to the cooking gear and took out the coffee and the stove top percolator. It would take several minutes for Mike to get the coffee going so he sat down near the fire and watched it as it slowly warmed up on the roaring wood fire.
::I guess I won't be taking any photos today. Maybe tomorrow I'll get a chance to do it. And that ledge way up there is just perfect.:: he planned, studying the peak near them.

The coffee was soon done so Stoker took his mug and reached for the pot. However, his aim was off due to the altitude and he knocked the hot kettle off the grate and onto the snowy ground. He wasn't able to move his feet out of the way in time and the steaming beverage poured out onto a booted ankle and foot, soaking in between the laces.

"SH*T!" Stoker dropped his mug and instinctively reached for his leg.
"D*mm*t. OUCH!" Mike took off his glove and began to unlace his hiking boot. After taking his sock off, Mike saw redness on his left ankle down to his instep. He grabbed a handful of snow to melt and started dripping it over the area through a fire warmed glove. Stoker tried to right the kettle, but still distracted, he burned his bare right hand for forgetting to use the pot holder. "Ow,,, not again! What is wrong with me?" he said angrily out loud.

Marco heard the commotion coming from the campfire. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly awakened from his slumber. He moved awkwardly to get out of the hammock. Ungraceful as it was, Lopez finally managed to get up and over to Mike, who continued to swear.

Marco looked down at his friend. "What did you do?"

Looking up with pure disgust on his face, Mike pointed to his left foot. "This is what I did. I burned my foot with the hot coffee."

Marco bent down and looked at the scald. "Looks like a first degree burn. We should have some cream in the first aid kit and some aspirin. I'll go get it." Lopez stretched his arms behind his back, still trying to wake himself. "Man,
I feel like I've been drugged."

"That's the fresh winter air working on us. There's no smog up here. And maybe because of the altitude." Stoker mused.

"Us? Acting weird at four thousand feet? We're not up that high." Marco insisted mildly. Lopez chuckled sleepily and slowly plodded over to their backpacks and took out the first aid kit. He dropped it next to Stoker, still rubbing his face. "I think this is just the weight of...*yawn* fire duty sliding off our shoulders."

"Maybe. Any saline in there?" Mike asked.

"Nope."

"This really hurts." Stoker said, eyeing up Marco.

Lopez froze his expression and tried not to get mad. "I know it hurts and it's gonna hurt more. You can pour melted snow on it to numb it up a little and then put on the burn cream." Lopez took the salve out and handed it to him.

"I know that! Geez!" Stoker grabbed the tube from Marco's hand.

"Tomar las cosas con calma. Ay!" Lopez exclaimed, still turning Mike's leg around to look at it.

"Sorry, Marco. It's uncomfortable."

Marco set his parka'd hands on his hips. "Lemme go get a towel to wet in the stream to make you a cold pack. That should work even better. The burned area's not that big."

"No, it's not. But I think it's on my heel, too."

Marco stood up and stretched again. He picked up his canteen and emptied the contents while he walked down to the stream. The water was almost as cold as the surrounding snow and steaming in the frigid air. The afternoon's chill was coming in. After half a minute, Marco returned with the water.

"I can boil the rest of this, Mike. Let it cool so we can use it as a sterile compress solution for your burn if that starts to peel open on you. Go ahead and put the cream on and take two aspirin." He regarded Stoker thoughtfully. "Huh. On second thought, maybe YOU want the hammock now." he teased.

"Very funny." Mike grumbled. "I want to go shoot a couple of rolls of film."

"You still can. Once this is treated and dressed. This won't hold you back unless you let it." Lopez poured the water into a pan and placed it on the grate protecting the open campfire. "With this weather, Mike, the water will cool back down in a couple of minutes after I shove the pan into the snow. Until then, lemme help you up off that cold ground."

Stoker stood up on one leg and with Lopez's help, he hobbled over to the hammock and got inside of the sleeping bag to dry off his slacks. He left his bare foot exposed to the colder air out one side and on top of the bag.

Marco was putting a clean cloth under Mike's foot when he noticed red blotches on his hand. "What happened here?"

"I still wanted the coffee and didn't realize the pot was still hot."

Lopez made a face, bent over to scoop up some snow into his glove, and he piled it high on top of the second burn, leaving it there to melt. "Wanna leave?"

"No. We just got here. Keep that radio turned off and packed away."

"Suit yourself. A sled ride down the mountain might be kinda fun."
Lopez joked.

"Not with a ski patrol. Not in the mood."

Marco just smiled.

Stoker wasn't amused. He was stressed. And from more than one kind of burnout. "Marco, it's just not my day. Not at all. How am I gonna go skiing tomorrow?" he moaned.

"These'll calm down by then. Like sunburn." Lopez told him,
eyeing up their cooling progress. "They're nothing."

"I hope you're right." said Stoker, covering up his face with his ski cap's brim to cut down the sun's glare. Shifting in the hammock, Mike got comfortable and put his other arm over his face. In a few minutes, Stoker fell asleep while trying to keep the irritating skin pain out of his mind.

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy theaterhost Date: Fri Mar 30, 2007 5:37 pm Subject: The White Terror..

Captain Stanley was having the time of his life. And he wasn't in the ski resort. He was kicking it back, and relaxing a while, talking shop with his perfect working rural counterpart.

"My men are going to kill me if they found out that I was here." he said to Meeks Bay's fire captain as he accepted a mug of steaming coffee on the glassed-in pine wood balcony overlooking the tiny cabin like fire station's driveway.

"Tell em, ...you got lost in the woods somewhere." chuckled Tim Eihausen as he fingered a leaf on the bamboo shoot growing out of a glass of water on the hand painted table between them. It looked incongruously at home in the sunlight against the backdrop of the bright bursts of snow falling from all the pine tree boughs nestled around them as a soft winter wind liberated its weight from their needles. "Captains are entitled to the occasional station tour, too. It's..." Tim broke off, gathering "almost a rite of passage that goes with the position."

Cap looked dubious.

"Look at it this way." said Tim, spooning in the two spoonfuls of artificial creamer that Hank had said he wanted into his cup. "Who else do we have with whom we can confide in, except ourselves?"

Stanley began to smile, studying the medals and letters of commendation framed on the knotty pine walls above resort town school kids drawings of appreciation.

"Am I right?" Eihausen egged on, smacking Hank's forearm.

Hank nodded and began to stir his coffee thoughtfully as he leaned back on his chair legs and cleared his throat self consciously.

Tim went on, still smiling with carefree abandon.
"This isn't about them and what they might think. This is about you, finding yourself a good time, regardless. That's what vacation is all about."
he said with a sweep of his hand. "None of you are on duty right now. So stop acting like you are." he grinned.

Cap burst out laughing, finally reassured. He leaned forward on his seat and whispered confidentially as a vollie firemen climbed up the brass fire pole to their level to take a reading on the tiny weather station perched outside their expansive bay window on a shelf. "I did feel like a goose in the hen house at the resort. Skiing feels like it's from Mars."

"It does." agreed Tim. "Until you get used to it."

"For me? That answer's gonna be never. Why I ambled up the road is to learn more about your ski patrol set up. It's fascinating! Mobile rescue? Without a truck? I have to admit I'm more than a little curious to see what it's all about. Oceans and asphalt freeways, and brambled canyon cliffs, I understand for settings. But working in snow?" and he leaned his chin on an elbow perched next to his coffee cup.

"Tire chains are everything. We've a Quint rigged up with them. Wanna see?"

"Just try and hold me back."

Captain Stanley was impressed how the mountain station's equipment and trucks, a little on the old side, had been modified into alpine configurations. ::And on a modest budget, too.:: he realized. ::Their overhead must be phenomenal.::

"What are your rates for your medics? It's novel that you run them out of modular box ambulances instead of rescue squad trucks." Cap said.

"It's a matter of environmental conditions. We need a safe, heated place in which to treat people. It's warm where you are. So you usually don't need the shelter. The grand out of doors, is usually enough. You guys don't even get that much rain. I've seen some of your fire engines down there. Why don't those Crowns have any roofs?" he asked curiously.

Hank joked. "We like to work on our tans." he quipped.

Tim laughed good naturedly. "We don't have that luxury nine months out of the year. This rig," he said, slapping a hand on Medic Three's green and white side. "is a whole entire room of intensive care equipment, on wheels, always kept at eighty degrees Fahrenheit, no matter what the temperature is outside."

"Expensive?" Hank asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No more fuel expenditure than an extended length pumper or one of your middle sized county ladder trucks. Here, we don't use those so much. No buildings are higher than five stories out here. Modified sports utility vehicles with heavy suspensions are the way to go. We use the highway department with their cranes for any steep angle extrication work. 're our partners. There's some differences between our two fire departments. Everybody's a fully advanced trained high angle mountain climbing instructor as well as a cutting edge fire jumper."

"Wow. I had no idea."

"Think about it. We've little or no level ground to work on, except along laid pavement and we've a thousand times the tinder factor than do the lowlands,
anywhere." Tim laid out.

"That you do. I've never seen pine trees so tall. Or big."

"Some sequoias and thousand year bristlecones are still at the higher elevations."

Cap blew a low whistle. "Lightning risk must be sky high. Uh,.. no pun intended."
he said, holding out a hand.

Tim chuckled. "That's our number one fire cause. Right behind human negligence at camping sites."

"Does the city rate your station billing?"

"No. We do. Solely on what kind of emergency medical services are rendered. Just above cost of operations. The city fund raises separately for some of our salaries and supplements with volunteer crew to keep up affordability for our area's permanent residents. El Dorado County's ambulance rate schedule, is this: Our advance life support's base rate is $752, for emergency or non-emergency calls.
ALS Level 2 for any resuscitation in combination with our second basic life support rig is $1,089. Our mileage is market rate. Facility waiting time per quarter hour, is $175."

Tim pulled down a clipboard hanging on the wall next to the idling snow tire chained Quint and flipped around a few pages. "My medics use this for reference when filing their paperwork. "Let's see. Oxygen use is market rate, ambulance standby per hour, is $129 with all critical care transports topping off at $1,287 for everything if invasive procedures are utilized, such as intubation, cricothorocotomy, I.C. pace makers.." he shrugged. "Oh, and the medical supplies and drugs are at market cost + 15%"

"Not bad. Insurance covers most of it for most people, right?"

"Right. Usually it whacks off eighty percent of the total for the patient."

"How do you classify your base ratings? Everybody's service is different, depending on the county so I hear." Cap said.

"It sure is.. This is ours. The ALS emergency base rate is charged for all ambulance transports in which an emergency Code 3 response, lights and siren, was required, or emergency treatment rendered, or any type of advanced life support procedure was involved."

"You mean that to be any active physical resuscitation and intravenous medication courses?" Hank wanted to know.

"Yes. Any respiratory or cardiac arrest or hemorrhage reduction treatments." Tim clarified. "Now, our ALS non emergency base rate is charged for non-emergency transfers which can be scheduled from a private residence, nursing facility, or hospital and not requiring an emergency response. Wheelchair transports,
para and quadraplegic intrafacility trips, etc. Last of all our ALS Level 2 is a charge that applies when there has been a medically necessary administration of at least three different medications or the provision of one or more of the following ALS procedures: manual defibrillation/cardioversion, endotracheal intubation, central venous line, cardiac pacing, chest decompression, surgical airway, or intraosseous line."

"I don't think our rescue squad paramedics have some of those abilities yet."
he remarked thinking of Roy and Johnny.

"Don't worry. They're coming. The DOT and the AMA are using small town scaled operations first and their fewer rescue call numbers to fine tune or train up what paramedics can or might be able to do. These skills'll filter down to your big city para-men, have no fear. It's only a matter of time."

"Glad I'm not a paramedic." Hank joked.

"Me, too." said Tim. "Sounds a little bit too complicated for me. That is, all of it, except for the paperwork. Give me simple CPR and mouth to mouth followed up with a positive pressure oxygen tank, any day."

Cap laughed out loud, startling the resort fire station's cat, lounging on the second story pinewood railing overlooking the pinewood garage. "You know,
somedays I feel exactly the same way." Hank shared. "How's the boy doing that we helped out yesterday?"

"Back to sledding. Nicole, who's pulling slopes patrol with Ryan again today said they saw him playing on Yellow Run with his mother in the kid safe area just before lunch."

"I'm happy he's all right. He sure had a close call yesterday."

"He sure did. Kids are funny though. They can be half dead and bounce back in a couple of minutes. Amazes me every time whenever I see one of their fast recoveries from something that would kill an adult."

Hank nodded in agreement. "Say, which truck did those two take out? I can't tell which one's not here from the melting treadmarks." he said, pointing to the snow puddling out from earlier runs taken that morning, on the rustic cobble stone flooring.

"They didn't take any."

"Run that by again.." Stanley blinked. "Just how are they getting around if they aren't driving? Your medic service area's fifty miles wide."
Tim's eyes lit up eagerly. "Hank, how are you in a pair of snowshoes?"
he wondered mischieviously.

Cap just gaped. "Well, I uh,...ah.."

"I'll show you how they're doing it." Tim promised, irrepressible.

Cap wasn't one to shirk new things, he said. "Let's go." with an excited grin.

Chet and Gage met up together accidently on a red single diamond at the bottom of the ski lifts.

Kelly shouted when he spied Gage just butt perching himself onto a chair to go up to the next level. "Hey, Johnny. Give me a hand up!" he said,
tossing up his bundled skis and poles. Then he leaped just as the chair lurched forward, beginning the ride.

Gage forearm grabbed Chet deftly and pulled him up to the seat next to him.
"Hey, glad you could make it. I thought you'd stay inside reading those Harlequin romance novels with Dixie all morning long." he said lowering the safety bar down in front of them and locking it shut.

"Nope.." said Kelly. "I just read a few chapters with her to keep her company.
But then she ran into this hunky guy and suddenly, it was like I wasn't even there, pal."

Johnny's face fell around his ski goggles. "Does Dr. Brackett know about any of this yet?"

"No. Why should he? It's not like they're dating or anything."

"Huh. That's funny. I always thought they were." Johnny mumbled to himself as he held on to the control bar lowered in front of them as they dangled their feet.

Chet was oblivious and he didn't seem to need any sunglasses.

::That's probably why he's got so many freckles.:: Gage thought in dismay.
::I wish I could freckle. A little. Me? I only darken. It's boring.:: he mused.

"Say, have you seen her yet?" Kelly said.

"Who?"

"Her, man. The blond babe with the bandaids."

"Oh. You mean Nicole?" Johnny said evasively, clipping on his skis so he'd be able to jump off whenever some convenient ground decided to rise up once more underneath to meet them again. The last thing he wanted was Chet moving in on his girl. "Nah, uh, not yet anyway."

Chet pointed back down towards the resort buildings. "Say, look who's decided to make an appearance. Is that Dixie in that hot pink ski suit sitting by that umbrella'd heated bar table?"

Johnny chortled. "It sure is. I wonder if she's actually gonna try to ski some.
That'd be a reversal if I ended up rescuing her from a sprained ankle."

"She was kinda planning on preparing for that kind of thing the other way around." Kelly said softly, leaning over the bar to start waving to her.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing.." Kelly replied. "Look, she's spotted us. She's waving!"

Both the ski suited firemen waved back from their moving height,
ascending along the ski lift.

"Let's meet her at the bottom. Maybe we can give her lessons." Kelly suggested.

Without answering, Johnny suddenly popped open the bar and leaped off, falling down ten feet into the rich powder. Neatly, he caught himself on his poles and began skiing downhill like a madman.

It was then, Kelly spotted his target. ::Nicole. I can see the red cross on the back of her snow suit from here. And Johnny's ahead of me..:: he exclaimed.

Chet launched himself into the air, too, sliding off his lift seat neatly.
Only his landing, wasn't as smooth as Johnny's. He ended up tumbling hard onto his butt and he dragged a few feet, numbing certain nether parts until he regained good balance on his skiis."Ooo, that smarts. Gotta practice that again a little later.." he said to himself as the chair traveling skiers above him pointed and laughed at good naturedly at his clumsiness.

Behind him, he never noticed a simple booted Dixie McCall getting onto the ski lift to join him. In her hand, was a pair of snowshoes.

Gage got to Nicole's side just as Chet cruised in, on a plume of fluffy frozen powder. She was just pulling out her radio. "Hi guys. Funny meeting you here.
I was just about to get a progress report from Ryan about the slope conditions up there." she said, pointing peakwards.

"Why?" said Johnny, grinning like a kid in a candy store."Something going on?"

"Not yet. But the Weather Service says there's a huge snow shelf forming above A-9 because of some fair weather winds. We may have to shut this run down in a couple of minutes just to be on the safe side."

"Oh, really?" Gage stammered.

Kelly covered for him, and himself. "Can we come along?"

"Are you good?"

Johnny and Chet shared double looks of barely veiled innuendo with each other in growing humor.

Nicole smacked both of their snowsuited shoulders. "I meant as skiers wise guys."

"We're fair." replied Johnny, some of his calm personality returning.

"What we can't ski, we can climb. We work high angle all the time back at home." Chet offered smartly.

Johnny slugged him for trying for brownie points. "She already knows that.." he hissed between his teeth.

"Good enough for me." Nicole said planting a couple of skis into the hillside's virgin snowbank next to the packed down run that other skiers were using with high enjoyment. She pulled out her patrol radio. "Ryan? Status.."
she hailed crisply. "I'm at 8 spy 2, east side. Just below the cache."

##Doesn't look good. I've dug a pit and there's crystallization beginning down at the base with a clearly demarcated glacial layer. Good chance she'll give within the next four hours. I think we should raise the flag and close this run down.##

"All right. I'm doing it. Any newbies higher than you? If they see the abandon flag, they may panic and we might get stuck running a leg case down before we can do a thorough enough safety sweep." Nicole told Ryan.

##Everybody seems to be cool. I've seen no wipeouts for at least twenty minutes.
I still say raise it now. I'm seeing blow off starting up at the peak and heavy curling.##

Nicole trusted her paramedic partner's instincts. Without a word to her two lingering out of town guests, she leaped into calm action. Sliding horizontally across the ski run, avoiding downhillers, she came to a dead eagle tree. From there, she pulled on a rope and pulley, until a bright yellow and black checkered pennant rose to its highest limb and began fluttering there. Then she turned resort-wards.

An answering cherry flare rose from spotters at the main lodgehouse to show they acknowledged the emergency closing of A-9 as ordered by the ski patrol.

"What was that all about?" Gage asked catching up with her on his skis. He pulled off his goggles to see downhill a little better.

"Oh, that's just confirmation that the tote board is getting changed. Once we've got A-9 cleared off, the demolition crew will start heading up there by staff lift to go blow up that overhanging lip of snow buildup before it decides to avalanche itself down on top of somebody." Nicole replied.

Kelly blanched. "You mean, we're all in danger right now?"

Nicole grinned. "Probably.." she said, enjoying his discomforture. But then she let him off the hook. "No. Not where we are. We're safe as long as we don't venture off the run over there." she said pointing towards an area of recently snapped off pine trees and aspen, bent chaotically like broken toothpicks pointed downslope. "That's the thunder alley for this season."

"Why do I get the feeling you don't mean a bowling lane?" Johnny said, his face falling into a slight bit of fear.

"Because you understand what an avalanche path is. Most big city firefighters do because they understand mud slides." she said smugly. "Come on. Let's go.
You can help me chase any lingerers downhill with these cherry flares. Here, put on these vests." she said handing out two of them that were red, bearing a white cross symbol emblazoned on the back. "Consider yourselves recruited. It'll take too long to round up staffers from the big house at the base."

-
Roy DeSoto, and Dr. Brackett were rounding off a curve with their guide, leading the mule, when it began.

The snow covering a large part of a mountain valley near them, began to come down.

A half mile away, Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez, saw the same thing.

A loud klaxoned hooter began to sound all over the resort and a score board like status sign, displaying ski run designations began to flash. A-9's name, turned blood red in lights.

##Alert. A-9. Alert. A-9. All emergency crews, report.## said a voice over the loud speaker.

Everywhere, resort wide, all the ski lifts jolted into stillness, keeping their riders safe where they were, up high in the still sunny air.

All happy chatter around Dixie ceased and all eyes turned towards the mountain as a dull roar began to grow above them.

McCall slowly turned around and beheld a monster barrelling down on A-9 to her right. ::Oh, my G*d. Johnny and Chet are down there.:: she quailed.

Photos: None.

***********************************************************
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" voyagerliveaction Date: Sun Apr 1, 2007 5:54 pm Subject: Convergence

Nicole dug her skis into the side of the hill and came to a jolting stop inside a shower of snow. Chet and Johnny skidded to a halt on either side of her. She let out a shout of dismay. "We're done trying to warn anybody. We have to wait it out until it's over. Follow me to the aid cache.. We're gonna need it."

"What's a cache?" Gage shouted following her back down the slope very near the warning flag.

"An emergency storage hut full of our medical gear and sleds."
she replied. "Ryan, notify the fire department! She's coming down big!" she hollered into her radio.

Kelly tapped them on their arms urgently. "Ohhh, that one's not going to make it.." he said, pointing to a skier who had ventured off the courseway into the no ski zone. He was trying to make a run for the safety of A-9's open track through the trees. The roaring avalanche effortlessly overtook him, sending him tumbling over the side of a tall cliff in a jumble of snow. "Too late! Too late!" Chet yelled.

"Let's go.." Nicole told the two firemen. "Leave the sled, the team coming behind us from the resort'll pack it up. That guy's first.
Don't lose sight of him!" she urged as she pulled a backpack of gear and spinal precautions out of the cache. She flipped on a red light poled at the top of the hut and started running an orange streamer tape across the run to show her direction of rescue travel for those coming.

The avalanche was soon spent, but not before it reached the highway with its dying foot as it wound itself, decelerating, around and over pine trees.

"A car! It's caught a car!" Gage pointed.

Nicole gave an update transmission. "Silver station wagon down off 87 and Emerald Bay Road, right at mile marker 57. Unknown casualty number!" she said.

##PCSO copies. Launching Life Flight and extrication crews.## came the voice of her dispatcher.

Tim Eihausen stopped Captain Stanley with the back of his hand when a klaxon sounded throughout the pine log walled garage. They had been laughing on a bench as Tim tried to show Hank how to lace up snowsnows.

"Grab a jacket, Hank. We're rolling." said Tim. "Car off the road." Stanley got inside of a winter turnout and slid his feet into the boots that Tim snatched for him out of a locker. "You're a fourteen.
right?"

"Yeah..Good eye." said Hank. Cap started running for the engine on automatic reflex.

Tim shouted. "Not the Quint, we'll send somebody back for it. We're taking the piste basher." he said as his men started running into the garage to gear up into cold weather equipment.

"The what?"

"The trail groomer.. A sort of snow tank with treads. We've got her out back." Eihausen clarified. "She's the only thing able to climb the avalanche's debris field at this point until it settles and freezes in."

"A bulldozer designed for snow?" Cap said, rejoining him.

"You can say that." Tim said as the two of them ran for the rear fire door. "We'll get exactly where we're headed en route."

-
The deep rumble of the slide died away, leaving the sounds of panicked skiers on the run as they fled basewards, heading for the resort. But Gage and Skoloda saw no one else but the tumble of the body skidding down the mountain side just above them. "I sure hope he's still alive.." Johnny told her as they scissor walked rapidly to the edge of the ski run trail.

"He most likely is. The powder's deep over there. The snow'll cushion his impact at the bottom when he finally stops tumbling. All of his injuries are gonna be from hitting exposed rocks." Nicole cocked her head, listening carefully a few moments after she told Chet and Gage to shush at the tree's edge. "Ok, it's safe to leave the hard pack here. There won't be a second slide."

"How can you tell?" Chet asked, tightening his snow goggles.

"The trees aren't vibrating.." she said, pulling a de-gloved hand off the rough bark of one pine. She lifted her radio to her mouth. "Ryan, you ok up there?"

##*spap* I'm ok, I'm ok.. But there's at least one skier trapped in the alley. I saw her get engulfed. I'm heading over there with Max.## he said of his search dog.

"We're heading for one towards the bottom of Cascade Falls. He was topside when it hit. He's taking a high fall."

##Copy, two spotted victims.## Ryan transmitted. ##Victor's already working on getting us head counts of how many total were on A-9. There's bound to be a few hot shots out there who figured they'd ski off-trail illegally. He says he'll call up with our returned in numbers in five minutes. ##

"Roger that." said the woman EMT to her paramedic coworker.
Nicole started moving again, with Chet and Johnny close behind. "Send Max down for a probe. I've broken the south cache!" Nicole radioed. "Our second team's almost here." she said, glancing over her shoulder at the emergency lift feeding along empty chairs with usage. She could see another four of her ski patrol team in the chairs above an insulated stretcher tethered onto a cable dangling under their feet. "They're at eight hundred and climbing."

##I see them.## said her partner.

Gage startled when a minute later, a large Golden Retriever burst through a snowdrift and leaped over his head to get at Nicole's hand. "Here you go, Max. Go run it up to Ryan. Go." she commanded,
giving the dog the folded up avalanche probe. Max hefted it up into his slabbering jaws and disappeared in a cloud of snow who needed no further urging.

"Are you two doing ok?" Nicole asked her guests when they began to chop step into the thigh deep snow off the ski run inside the tree line.

"We're ok. This is no different than a stair climb." said Chet.
"Just keep leading us on. That guy can't wait." Kelly said, shifting a pack of shovels on his back.

-
On the resort guest ski chairs, the emergency radio traffic was clearly audible in the frigid sunny air. And someone in the know had heard every word of it from moment one.

Dixie McCall had had enough of sitting on the side lines. When she saw the emergency ski patrol teams go by up hill, she lifted her bench bar and jumped off, landing on her snow shoes. Tightening her hood around her face, she jogged over the ski run to the other lift and jumped onto a chair to follow them up. ::I'm a nurse, d*mn it. A little cold and snow's not gonna stop me from helping out here.:: she declared.

-
Roy and Brackett's guide finally led the mule out of the ravine.
"We're at the road. Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked the two men.

"Yeah, we gotta go. Those people are gonna need us asap."
said DeSoto. "Don't worry, we're dressed plenty warm enough.
Thanks for the ropes."

"No problem. Here's your radio back. Ok, mile marker 57 is about eighty yards that way. I'm going to go met the fire department's preliminary vehicle searching down this way, and tell him you're here, doc."

"Feel free. Maybe I can speed up any treatment authorization a little." replied Kel.

They were interrupted by loud shouts from another direction.
It was Lopez and Stoker, carrying out their camping gear.

"Dr. Brackett. I'll be right with ya. I'm going to tell them what's happening." Roy said. "That's Mike and Marco."

"I'll wait at the top of the embankment. What do I look for along the slide's foot?" Brackett replied as he zipped up his jacket a little tighter against the chill.

"Broken brush and the smell of gasoline." Roy said. "That'll be where she started rolling and tumbling down." he said of the fallen car.

"Ok.." said Brackett, beginning to jog away from him.

Captain Stanley, in the groomer with Captain Eihausen, watched as the man expertly cleared the road ahead of them for the two rescue trucks of firemen following behind them.

Hank exclaimed out loud. "Hey, that's Dr. Brackett!" he said,
pointing to a figure waving wildly in front of them through the gloom of snowflakes still darkening the air heavily from wind blown avalanche debris dusted pine boughs.

"Who?"

"Our friend from the resort. He's the attending who helped us out with that choking you heard called out last night but didn't need to respond to. I think he's spotted something."

Tim threw the snow vehicle into idle. "He sure has. I can see the tire marks skidding sideways from here. Stopping now."
-

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy theaterhost Date: Mon Apr 2, 2007 6:30 pm Subject: Contact

Hank shouted to his men and Dr. Brackett standing next to the side of the road, tying on ropes. "Where are they?" he asked, joining them.

Stoker pointed over a splintered shrub. "Down there. We can't tell how many are in the car. Are they laying hose for a washdown?"

"With all this snow lying around?" Stanley smiled as he watched Captain Eihausen help his station's firefighters arrange extrication equipment and rappeling pulleys into rescue configuration with guiding lines, hauling mains and belay ropes. "This stuff's acting like natural fuel foam here." he said happily.

Mike blew on his hands to warm them. "Oh, I guess forgot about that frozen water effect. Well, I'm going to be sort of useless then. There isn't going to be any pump that needs manning."

"No, but that car's got to be split open a.s.a.p. See what you can do." he told Lopez and Stoker. "Guys, use these." he said, handing Roy, Marco and Mike a bundle of spare duty gloves Tim had given him after they had pulled up in the trail groomer.

"Right, Cap." they said.

Mike didn't even feel his scalding sore foot and smarting hand. He let the cold and all the heart pounding adrenalin he felt surging through him take care of that for the moment.

Hank looked up. "Tim! This is Lopez and Stoker, Firefighter3/EMTs.
And DeSoto, a Firefighter1/paramedic. Could you use a couple more hands on the heavy equipment and your patient care?"

"Send em down with the jaws and zip gun. DeSoto, I've got my men lowering the first stokes with all the medical gear. They'll help you check the victims to learn their status. Grab helmets from the back of the winching truck."
Eihausen ordered. "Be careful down there, the avalance powder's still settling. Visibility will be seriously reduced for a while until things finish blowing out of the trees in the wind."

"Okay, Cap." Roy said to Eihausen, tying on the rope he had strung out on the road for a safety line for an improvised hip cradle.
"Got our lines?" he asked Hank and Kel.

"Yep." said Hank.
Brackett and Cap took hold of the rappelling rope after snugging the end of it off on a nearby pine branch jutting up from a huge fallen trunk at the top of the steep slope.

"Roy, I've got a radio." said Kel, holding up the one Cap handed to him.

"I'll let you know what we got right away." said DeSoto and the L.A. County trio began their slow descent down to the fallen car they could barely see.

Dixie caught up with Gage and Skoloda rapidly using the broken snow trail they had left behind. "Johnny, wait for me!" she shouted to get his attention.

"Dixie? What are you doing here?" Gage asked, grabbing her elbow to help guide her as they kept running.

"Same reason you are. Three are far better to stabilize if he's critical."
she replied.

Nicole recognized Dixie, even in her hood. "You're that nurse from yesterday."

McCall nodded.

"Here, tie this on." Skoloda said, handing her the end of the safety rope John and she were tied together with. "That way, if anybody falls, the other two can anchor themselves down and stop any sliding. Just drop down onto your back if that happens and dig your heels in like spurs to catch them."

"Got it." said Dixie.

A few minutes later, Nicole pointed to a turn around a large boulder as they flanked the great, silently frozen tumble of water from the creekbed arching straight above, as fast as they could.

"Where is he?" Chet said, whirling around. "This IS the base of the cliff."

Nicole stopped them in their tracks. "Hang on, there might be a new expanded drift pocket at the base of the falls. I don't see the warning snow fence and sign we put up earlier in the season keeping people away from all this unstable cliff ice." She drew out a search probe and began stabbing the snow in a line carefully in front of her before each step. "Stay behind me." she ordered.

A tense minute later and the probe nearly fell out of her glove. "There's the lip.
The slide must have first widened, then capped it off. Watch your step." she said. "The hollow's right underneath us."

"How deep?" Johnny asked, feeling the change in the snow's texture as they sank in thigh deep into the jumbled pile left over from the slide.

"Six feet or so. Level bottom." Nicole replied. "About fifteen yards wide once you're in." Skoloda shared.

The three of them startled when a shelf of snow collapsed as they passed by,
exposing the natural rock grotto. "There he is.." said Johnny, kicking off his skiis and running across the bare stone floor of it.

The man was conscious, but bug eyed in voiceless pain.

Dixie, too, freed her feet and got to his side. "Easy,..easy, just lie still." she said, keeping him from reaching out to them from where he lay on his back in a pile of fallen snow. She grabbed his wrist to get his pulse. "We're on the ski patrol team. Can you breathe ok?"

The stunned skier coughed weakily, unable to understand the question as his vision swam with shock and very apparent internal agony. He still wanted to struggle to lift his head up in a blur of confusion.

"No.." Gage told him, setting two knees on either side of his head to hold him snugly still in a vice using them. "Keep still." he said, placing his gloved hands firmly over his ears in a controlled pin.

"No radials.." said Dixie, letting go of the skier's bruised wrist. She began sweeping down his body swiftly, looking for active blood flow soaking through his fall torn ski suit while Nicole broke out their oxygen and insulated blankets.

The injured skier moaned incoherently when Dixie pressed down on his abdomen.

McCall stopped. "Positive pelvis instability and rigidity upper right quadrant."
"This is a bleed out." she called out. "Also, I've found two tibial fractures and a dislocated left ankle. Femurs are fine."

Kelly glanced down at the man's hands. "His thumbs are jammed out of their joints. "

"That's from the pole handles he was still hanging onto when he hit."
Skoloda explained.

"Do they need splinting?" Chet asked, digging into her pack for a couple of Sam's to start on the man's legs.

"No, his gloves'll be enough protection." she replied. "They'll slip back into place when he starts trying to move his fingers again."

"Ok.." said Kelly. "His color's still good in all limbs." he reported.

The man's eyes rolled up into his head as his consciousness began sinking slowly.

Gage slipped his little fingers under the man's chin and jaw to help him keep an open airway when he started gurgling. He cracked opened the man's mouth and peered inside. "Not blood. And he isn't getting sick."

Nicole suctioned pink saliva and snow water out of the man's mouth with a hand held baster from the trauma kit. "I got him. How's his chest?"

"Intact with...even movements." replied Dixie, reaching inside of his suit down to the skin after feeling around his rib cage and along his sternum with her bare hands. "Do you have a cervical collar in that pack?" she said drawing her hands out to look for blood stains smearing them.

"Yes, right on top." replied Skoloda, setting the restless skier on high flow oxygen.

Dixie took it out and she and Kelly used it to free up Johnny.

Gage finished inserting an NP down the skier's right nostril. "I take it you have bags of Ringer's."

Nicole nodded. "Here." she said handing him a navy pouch full of catheters,
gauged needles and fluid flow tubing. "All you need's inside."

Dixie pulled out orange labelled foil squares from a sack. She wasn't familiar with them. "What are these?" she asked, uncoiling a stethoscope with her other hand quickly.

"Heat packs. Break open the capsule inside with a striking fist. They'll last half an hour." Nicole told her.

McCall and Chet put several inside the man's suit under his arm pits and groin area and Dixie prepared one for the bag insulating the I.V. fluid pouch Gage was stringing into readiness inside of a insulated hang sack.

All three of them snugged wool blankets underneath the frighteningly quieting man as far as they could to keep him mostly protected from the cold ground and snow under his back. Only then did Nicole radio out to those listening. "Ouray Rescue One to CalFire. One alive, at the base of Cascade Falls fumerole. Request a rapid extricate. Abdominal trauma and multiple fractures on all extremities. Diminishing level of consciousness is apparent. A paramedic and an R.N. are on scene."

##PCSO copies. One victim. Cascade Falls. ALS present. ETA of your Cal Star helicopter is ten minutes. Pilot reports they're flying out of Marshall Hospital in Placerville. Weather is clear.##

"Ouray One acknowledges. Note. Closest zone is Red Mountain Pass. She's snow free and clear to land."

##Roger that.##

Frowning, Nicole bent closer to their work area as she began cutting free the rest of the skier's clothing in a closer survey inside of his blankets,
looking for other wounds.

-
At the buried highway, things were progressing rapidly in scope and information.

"These three, are dead." Stoker told all the firefighters in the ring out from where he peeked inside the car. "The driver's still alive and conscious."

"Ok." said the Meeks Bay fire captain. "Let's get the top off." Tim ordered.

Soon, the deeply snowed in ravine resounded with the noise of rescue.

Up above, Kel Brackett began to fret. "What's taking them so long to report in?"

Hank answered."They'll get all their preliminary information first, start any life support if it's needed, then they'll call. Takes a while."

"I never knew that." Brackett admitted. "From my end at Rampart, everything's always so neat and tidy." he said ruefully. "And fast."

"Welcome to the real life rescue world, doc. Out here, you learn quickly that patience is a virtue." Stanley said. "In this case, their lack of communication's a good thing. That means they found somebody alive down there, and savable."

"Thank heavens for that." said Brackett. "What happens now?"

Cap looked at him and shrugged. "We wait. Somedays, that's the toughest part of the job. It really sucks being a little higher up in the chain of command."

"You're telling me?" Kel said, wrapping a blanket around himself as the sweat inside of his clothes began to freeze. "Try seeing things from my perspective once."
he scoffed mildly. "I can't see anything listening over a base radio."

The two men turned to watch the tiny dots of color far down below circling around the flanks of the car amid a sea of white and tangled timber.

Photos: None.

**************************************************
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy theaterhost
Date: Wed Apr 4, 2007 10:12 am Subject: Coalescence

Roy and Marco placed themselves as the victim tenders while the car was ripped apart around them. Stoker expertly butter knifed the windshield open and soon, the Meeks Bay company had sliced and lifted the car roof off of them.

DeSoto was on the man's head, providing oxygen and head and neck stabilization all the while he was talking to the terrorized man.
"We're here right next to you. Don't worry, the car's not going to fall any more. It's at the bottom. Don't move around at all. I got you.
Tell me where it hurts."

The man only groaned, unable to absorb what had happened to him as his swollen eyes witnessed the other firefighters moving the green tarp covered members of his dead companions out of the car and away from him to create space enough to free him from the car.

DeSoto realized he wasn't going to be given information. "Marco,
sweep him head to toe and tell me if he's pinned. I'm hearing rasps as he breathes."

Lopez checked. "There's bruising along the left side of his ribcage."

"Any holes?"

"No, the skin over them's intact." Marco lifted his head from where he crouched. "He's clear, arms and legs."

"Ok, maybe this difficulty breathing is something else."

"He's wheezing." Marco noticed.

"Yeah." DeSoto said as the other firefighters began to feed a long board behind the driver in between Roy's hands. "Could be asthma or something similar working on him. Once we finish his rapid extrication,
hand me the respiratory gear box. Also try to locate the albuterol in there."

"Right."

The driver was soon collared, head strapped, and bound safely on a spine board inside of a winter survival sleeping bag packed full of chemical heating packs.

"Okay, let's get him up top. He's still conscious." Roy told them. "I'll follow along and monitor his breathing." he said re-securing his lifeline around his waist and putting his gloves back on. "We've more than enough people covering scree."

Stoker made sure the guiding rope on the plastic sled litter was secured in front before he jogged ahead back up the avalanche chewed slope.
"All right, we've got a good anchor point!" he shouted. "The spider rig's ready."

As they were beginning to move the man uphill, he shuddered and started crying out for someone lucidly. A single name.

"Hold it. Hold it." DeSoto said, leaning close to the man's oyxgen masked face. "Say that again. Easy.." And then he listened carefully. He looked up in alarm. "He says there was a year old baby boy in the car."

"There was no car seat." Marco said in shocked dismay.

"I know. The infant may have been ejected during the crash. A set of seat belts back there are ripped apart." DeSoto said. "We didn't cut those middle ones."

"Maybe that seat protected him good enough." Lopez hoped. "But then he got buried."

"Go." Roy told him. "Follow the debris pattern."

Marco and two of Meeks Bay's crew immediately grabbed tools and started probing the snow in everwidening circles around the car and along the way they had come as Roy and his rescue party continued to leave the gorge.

The emotional heaviness in Lopez's chest began to grow as the minutes started to crawl by while they searched.

-
Back in the grotto, Gage cursed. "I can't get a vein. He's too cold."

Nicole said. "Put a hotpack below your tourniquet. It may raise one mid lateral instead of anticubital."

"Trying that." he replied.

A grinding rumble from above startled them. "Rockfall!"
Johnny shouted and they both hugged the shelf around the ice column of creekwater desperately. Nicole quickly shelled an open gear stuffed pack over the skier's face to protect him but she wasn't fast enough. A large stone caught her on the wrist with its full falling weight.

"Ahh..!" she screamed, sinking to her knees, cradling her left forearm.

Dixie and Chet had run the other way, out into the open.
"Move!" Kelly yelled to them. "More's coming down."

"Watch out!" Dixie warned.

A cluster of cantaloupe sized rocks impacted on the icy floor of the grotto and exploded apart violently, spraying stone splinters and dust that hit and impacted Skoloda and Gage.

Nicole screamed and ducked her head desperately to save her eyes.

Johnny grabbed her by the ski suit collar and dragged her closer to the cliff and under cover. "Did you break it?"

"I-I don't know.." she panted. "Hurts like a mother f*****"

"Keep it still. Gimme your radio if you can." he said.

Nicole passed it over, her injured arm resting oddly on her knees as she curled around it. " Ouch! G*d, I didn't need THIS happening right now." she complained. "He needs to get out of here."

"Working on that. Ouray to base. We're dodging rocks. Three are pinned against the cliff. Our patient is ...down a 50 slope. He's got head injuries, leg fractures, bruises and lacerations with internal bleeding. He is conscious but listless. His pupils are equal. He is receiving oxygen, but he has no recollection of the accident." he reported.

##PSCO copies. Latitude and Longitude is needed for helicopter LZ.##

Johnny looked askance, flinching as he looked up the waterfall for more signs of falling boulders.

"Give it here." Nicole said, tossing her head.

Johnny held the radio close to her mouth and pressed the talk button.

Nicole took in a painful breath. "We're at 37 59^(1) 41 and 107 47^(1) 02.6 at 12,300-12,500 ft. Air temperature is twenty five degrees. Winds are 10-15 from the north east, with gusts to twenty. I've been injured, but I'm stable."

The second ski patrol team responded instantly. ##Bob and Karen are just entering the alley trailhead. ETA three minutes. We've positioned four people on the southwest ridge fixed with binoculars to triangulate your position. They are at the northernmost visible notch. Are the two of you and your victim at the top of the couloir?##

Nicole nodded tiredly at Gage, who pressed the talk button again.
"Negative, we're at the bottom. Use Cascade Falls as a guide. We're at the base of them."

##10-4.##

Gage added more. "We need 1,100 ft. of guiding line: a 350 meter, 11 mil rope; a 65 meter guiding rope; two 30 meter, 8 mil cords; and all the webbing, carabiners and pulleys you have with your litter. A couple of head lamps would be nice. It's getting dark."

##Roger that.##

Chet and Dixie called out again. "Okay. It's over. We're coming back."

As soon as she could, Nicole let Dixie guide her out into the open and away from danger. Skoloda was undistracted by pain and she soon waved Dixie away, knowing her priorities. "I'll get smoke up for the helicopter!" she yelled back at Johnny.

"Okay." he replied. "Dixie, come help me try this I.V. again."
Johnny said. "I've tried twice already."

"How about a jugular stick?" McCall said.

"Won't work. He's too depressed pressure wise."

"Let me try." Dixie said, rethreading another catheter and needle guide. "Maybe a temple vein will be better."

"I'll get you a twenty five gauge." Johnny said.

A few minutes later, the third I.V. attempt was declared as failed. Soon after, Nicole's radio battery started beeping out loud every minute or so. It was dying because of the cold. "We're OOC." she said, checking its crystal display indicator.

"Yeah, but looks like we're no longer alone.." Gage said, pointing,
with a happy grin.

They could see Team Two coming fast and already, they were shooting a line up the cliff from the rope gun, a grounder.

"Nicole?! Are you okay?" one of them asked. "We heard."
a tall man questioned. He and the others dropped the orange sled stretcher down onto the snow that they had carried up with them that had attached to their ski lift chair.

"I'm fine. It's just an arm. Keep working." she said with a nod and a falsely loose grin mustered up to reassure her fellow coworkers.

"If you say so." he said, barely convinced. He turned away only when he realized that a paramedic and a nurse were standing by her.

Soon, the new team began guiding line tensioning until it was fixed, the twine removed and the lines connected up to those rescuers helping out the helicopter pilot at the top of the cliff.
Two in the patrol started putting up main and belay lines.

Gage apologized in advance. "Nicole, I gotta go with him. Stay with Dixie. She'll take good care of you after I'm topside." he promised her, pointing to her arm.

"Yeah. Thanks." she grunted, rising to her feet painfully.

Soon, the collected team started raising the litter loaded skier back up the cliff to the waiting bird. The spotters disappeared.

"He's up. And they're in the air." Nicole gasped happily, leaning heavily against the rock surrounding them. She watched as the CalStar chopper banked suddenly north, heading for town.

"Here. Get your leverage against me." Dixie said, taking her by the shoulders. "Are we heading back down on foot? Or are we sledding you down?" she asked. "I'm walking." Skoloda nodded.

"How about letting me splint that first?" she suggested, watching Nicole's reluctance in letting go of her injury.

"My arm can wait. I put it inside my coat. I can still feel and wiggle my fingers okay. The pain's gone way down. It doesn't hurt enough now to be broken and there's been no bone noises."

"All right. You're a better judge of your current condition than I am. We'll help you balance." McCall compromised as she and another aided Skoloda along the route back towards the ski run and the resort.

Chet Kelly popped his skis on and said. "I'm headed to the highway.
I just have to check whether or not rescue's found them."

"Go ahead. We'll manage just fine." Dixie told him.

Kelly skied the fastest circuit of his life, cutting through the trees on top of the avalanche path.

-
Ski Patrol Paramedic Ryan Shreves glanced up when the rest of his follow up team caught up with him. "I can't find her, but Max's pointing on something right here." he said, digging underneath his knees.

"Okay.." they said, beginning to make the snow fly with shovels.

Max began to bark excitedly, but Ryan was still keeping his feelings guarded. ::This slide's like concrete. I don't think there're gonna be any air spaces.:: he thought privately.

Twenty minutes later, they broke through into a pit of ice. The snow had sandwiched the woman skier tightly and had her completely entombed. Ryan did not find a palpable pulse. "No vitals. Let's get her out. Don't suddenly move her at all or ice crystallization will shred her tissues. She's partially frozen." he said, seeing her blue white hands that were almost the same color as the snow. Ryan checked in. "Ouray to Dr. Brackett on Tact Two."

##Go ahead, Ouray.## answered Kel from his rescue scene.

"Pulseless hypothermic. Possibly deceased. Female around one hundred ten pounds. Limbs intact without fractures. Color, chalky on all limbs and involving the trunk. Orders."

##She's too cold for countershocking. Do not defibrillate. Her cardiac impulses won't be reactive to conductivity or synthetic medications until she's brought back up to at least 94 F internally. Epinephrine will have no effect and will just pool in her half frozen tissues. Carefully begin manual CPR only without jarring her unnecessarily to prevent cellular damage and begin passive rewarming.##

"10-4."Ryan said.

A younger member of the ski team scratched his hair underneath his ski cap as he watched two of his seniors begin simple life support. "Isn't she gone?"

Ryan pegged him with a familiar mantra. "She's not dead until she's warm and dead." he told the teenager seriously.

"Oh, uh,.. really? Sorry." said the young patroller, frightened when he realized that he had been caught writing someone off too soon.

Ryan was kindly, remembering his first slide victim.
"Don't be concerned if you aren't ventilating her enough. She'll only need a few breaths every minute. Her stored oxygen is still there inside, not being used up yet. Keep her head exposed but start getting the rest of her warm with plenty of heating packs. But not too quickly, or she'll shock out.
We need to prevent brain damage from happening with a gradual recovery."

"Yes, sir." he replied.

-
Kelly made the highway in less than a minute and a half.

"Cap?! Is everything all right?" he asked, sliding to a stop on the road in front of Dr. Brackett and Stanley.

"Everything's going fine so far. They're working their way up right now. How are the other victims?"

"Our guy's airlifted. I don't know about the woman Ouray found."

"She's arrested but very chilled. She's has a shot getting back if she was cooled down fast enough after getting trapped underneath the avalanche layer." Brackett told him.

Cap introduced Eihausen to Kelly and they shook hands.

"I'm a huge fan of older, and smaller firetrucks. Seems like you have a good collection of them working for you." Chet admired, smiling at Tim.

"We do. We procure them from auctions and test them under our mountain conditions to see which ones'll serve us best."

A burst of static came out all the roadside radioes. ##Meeks Bay to HT 61. We need a sharper angle. And lights. The ropes are getting snagged on all of this brush.## reported a firemen hanging with Roy and their patient on the slope.

"10-4. Rolling a better winch." promised Captain Eihausen. "Hang tight." He started to shout orders to a crewman manning a stretcher line to go find a pickup and return to the station to go get the Quint out.

Chet stopped him. "Uh, sir. That might take a while. I'm very mobile with these things on." he said, shuffling his ski bound feet. "How about I go get it for you."

Tim glanced questioning at Hank. "Does Chet know how to drive a rig?"
Stanley started to shrug ignorance of that fact, when Chet spoke up.
"Yes, sir. I do. I know Quints like the back of my hand. I just passed my certs day before yesterday. So yeah, I can drive her no problems at all."

"Okay. Station's a mile down the road on your left. Door's already open."
Tim agreed.

"I'll be right back!" Chet said, picking up speed downhill along the road.
"What's your call sign?"

"61's." replied Tim.

"Got it." Kelly shouted over his shoulder.

Soon, they heard Chet returning in the Quint as he made his way up the steep mountain switchbacks.

Kelly toggled the radio mic, wearing one of the rural station's helmets and turnout gear. "Quint to HT 61. I'm one minute out."

Tim and Hank both, began to smile. "That was fast." Eihausen remarked.

"He normally is." Cap remarked with a chuckle. "He only gets into trouble every once in a while as a way too frequent Code I." Stanley shared.

Tim grinned. "Huh. We've got one of those, too. A real practical joker."

"Sounds familiar. Must run with the territory." Stanley said.

"It must." Tim smiled.

The two fire captains looked up at the sound of a manual diesel shifting gears,
with satisfaction. "Once we get the lights on, and get that new higher centering pulley on one of the extension aerials, things'll speed up."

"They sure will. You can count on it." Hank agreed.

But there were difficulties encountered almost immediately in getting the car survivor up the slope.

A spotter radioed in. ##Light is on the victim.##

Tim followed up. "HT 61 to Ouray Two. Can you see the lights?"

##Negative. Ice fog is moving in and there's still heavy tree snow fallout.##

"Are you at the steeper couloir angling point?"

##Yes, 61.##

"Ok, I'm sending a man down with head lamps to your position." Tim promised. "The new boom's almost ready.
Get set for a rope end." he said, watching as Chet swung the aerial over the drop off where the new pulley system was snugged securely.

## 10-4, we have a tag line set up. ##

"Copy that."

Then, Roy's voice sounded over the valley team's channel. ##Patient is becoming combative. We need a second paramedic down here a.s.a.p.##

"Working on that." Tim relayed. Then he spotted Gage running from a returned, road landed lifeflight. "Is he your other one?"

"Yeah." Hank said. "Johnny, get on a line. A male, combative multiple trauma. Roy's got his hands full."

Gage nodded and quickly rappelled out of sight.

-
Roy, Johnny, Nicole and Dixie were all at the Marshall Medical Center in Placerville, gathered together in an emergency cubical where Nicole had been assigned to get treated.

"I wanted to thank you for this." she said to Johnny, holding up an expertly Sam splinted wrist. "I didn't know that my boss was going to order me onto a bird to go get my arm fixed."

"No problem. Binding that up was no big deal at all. I don't think it's broken any." he smiled lightly.

"I'm kind of figuring that, too." sighed Nicole, a little tipsy on pain killer. She let John lower her onto the bed again where she had been seated, still in her full ski gear. "Oh, this stuff's w-wonderful." she sighed.

Johnny snicked up the bedrails on either side of the gurney deftly. "It won't last, so get ready." he laughed.

Nicole regarded him spinny eyed and smiling a little.
"I know. Maybe the doctor will follow up with some Versed."
she mused, scratching an itchy nose. "Sorry I'm such a bother.
You two are on vacation and I'm not someone in a life threat."

"So what? So we have to do a little babysitting until the doctor finishes up with our other three. Glad they're all gonna make it okay." Gage shrugged.

Skoloda refused to meet their eyes.

Gage tapped her shoulder to get her to look up.
"So we narc'd ya, Miss EMT. That's no biggie. We had to do something. Your systolic was falling below a hundred due to pain."

Nicole chuckled, picking at her bed sheets.

Roy quickly clarified their mindset. "No, really. We're glad to help. Colleagues shouldn't ever feel bad about getting some assistance from a coworker when it's needed."

Next to him, Dixie nodded in full silent agreement where she stood,
nursing a steaming cup of coffee as she was inhaling its hot vapors, near her mouth.

Gage finally grinned.
"In fact, Roy and myself really got a kick out of getting another chance to see you. Uh, I mean, in a way that's not medically related."
he began, starting to lead somewhere.

DeSoto shot a look at his partner so he'd tell the truth.

Gage cleared his throat self consciously. "Well I did... At least... Anyway..." he said shyly. "Too bad he's a happily married man." he said, cock eye grinned.

Nicole took the bait. "And you're not?"

Johnny blushed even harder. "Well.. uh.." he stammered.
"No, not right now, I guess. I'd never, ..uh. Yeah, I'm single."
he said folding up a BP cuff that he had used a minute before.
"Your pressure's perfect." But then he froze.

Roy stepped in. "I think, he thinks, so are you."

Gage cast Roy a grateful look and then he began studying his toes in embarrassment from where he was gripping the bed rail a little too hard.

Nicole regarded them both.
"That's so sweet. The answer's yes. I'll have dinner with you tonight, Johnny Gage. Just as soon as I get my cast on and my land legs back."

"Well, far out." Gage grinned, feeling completely thawed out for the first time ever all night. "That's incredible. I mean, you're incredible. Absolutely. I-I'd be honored." he finished, finally relaxing in front of her as their eyes met softly.

Unseen, Dixie and Roy slipped quietly out of the curtained room to give them some privacy.

McCall turned to DeSoto in the hallway. "Say, did you get the message from the front desk that Mike Morton left us?
That little girl from the house fire's gonna be just fine."

"I got it. Hey, why don't we go grab a beer to celebrate a little. We've got good reasons for doing so."

"You're on. Just so I'm located less than three feet away from a roaring fire."

"Consider it done. I promise I'll keep you from singeing any of your toes." DeSoto grinned, offering Dixie his elbow.

"Spoken like a true firefighter." McCall said, taking his arm.
"Come on, let's catch the next shuttle going back to the resort.
I'm sure Johnny can manage here just fine, on his own."

Roy remembered another thing about another victim.
"Want to go see Marco's miracle car baby? He got through his ordeal without a scratch. They found him in a tree top,
all safe and sound, still in his blanket strapped seat."

"Let's." McCall grinned, beginning to hum Rock-A-Bye baby.
"You should have seen Marco celebrating after they found him."

"Why? What did he do?"

"According to Hank, he dropped right down in the snow right there on the spot and made himself an angel by flapping all of his arms and legs."

Roy chuckled good naturedly with amusement. "Yeah, that sounds like something Lopez would do. Boy, I'm sure glad that story had a happy ending."

"So am I. They're the best kind." McCall sighed contentedly as she leaned on his shoulder affectionately as they walked.

FIN

The Quint Connection Episode 43, Season Six Emergency Theater Live -

Photos: None.

*************************************************
Emergency Theater Live =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

ETL Hosts : Patti Keiper and Erin James in the United States

**Theaterhost Emergency Theater Live "Offstory" Email Address For Midi Music Requests and General Inquiries . Emergency Theater Live Homepage

group/emergencytheaterlive Writer's Pre-Production Distribution Site

emergencyfans Emergency Theater Live /Emergency Fans Unite at MySpace

ETL's Emergency Community Forum /

Mark VII Productions, NBC, and Universal owns all of Emergency! and its Characters. 2009 . All rights reserved.

***NOTE: All author writings submitted to the theater will be set free onto the web to reach as many readers as we can manage to find. Contributing to any ETL episode means that has permission to publish your work in the manner presented here on this website and on text versions of the stories on other sites. All web audience writers or volunteer consultants and their corresponding emails will be duly recorded and left in place within each show's music and imaged airing episode, pointing out that fan or professional EMS personnel's creative contribution. Theater Host- Emergency Theater Live! ..