The 118
Episode 2
"The 118 Begins (Again)"
"Careful where you step."
Wendy Seager stood just inside the front door as two LAPD homicide detectives cautiously made their way into the burned out living room.
Portable scene lights had been set up to illuminate the interior, which was now a crime scene.
"So what are we looking at here?" asked Rex Winters, pushing back his jacket to rest his hands on his hips.
Seager stepped forward and gestured towards a discolored patch of flooring in the middle of the room.
"Pour patterns. An accelerant, in this case, gasoline, from the smell of it, was poured all around this area right here and then ignited. Our torch doused the bottom of the staircase and landing, too."
Winters' partner, T.J. Jaruszalski, turned and stared at the blackened staircase.
"Is this the only way down from upstairs?"
"Yep," Seager nodded.
Winters shook his head.
"So he intended to trap the residents inside. He knew what he was doing."
"He wanted to kill them," Jaruszalski said plainly.
"Looks like," Seager sighed. "We had another fire a couple of hours before this one over on Orange Grove. Same M.O., except the first in engine was able to rescue the occupants."
WInters looked around the blackened room.
"Failed once, so he had to take another shot."
Jaruszalski nodded.
"Well, this time, he didn't miss."
Next shift.
Eddie Diaz stood before Engine 118. The fire station's apparatus door was open behind him. He stared wistfully at the large red pumper.
"A little help would be nice," Chimney said as walked past carrying a large cardboard box and placed it in the back of a fire department pickup truck that was parked on the apron. "This place ain't gonna clear itself out."
"Sorry, Chim," Eddie replied. "Just can't believe it's my last shift driving this baby. I heard the new engine's sitting over at the new station already."
Chimney slipped his hands into his pockets as he stood beside him.
"Well, don't worry, pal. You two have one last shift together."
Hen passed them with another box and placed it in the back of the pickup with the others.
"You know, this would go a lot quicker if we had everyone hauling this stuff. Just a thought."
"You'd think we'd hire a moving company, at least," Eddie replied. "I mean, it's not enough that we have to handle our usual duties, plus respond to calls, but we also have to pack up a whole fire station."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Chimney yawned. "I'm already beat. I didn't sleep well. I kept having these crazy dreams. Like, really vivid."
Eddie propped a boot on the engine's front bumper and rested his elbow on his knee.
"I suppose you're gonna tell us all about it. Were they sex dreams? In which case, spare no detail."
"I wish. No, I kept having these dreams that my life...our lives were a TV show."
Hen looked at him sideways.
"A TV show? Like a reality show?"
Chimney shook his head.
"No. Like a drama. Pure fiction. Like on Fox or ABC. But it was so unrealistic. Like, in one episode, Buck stole the ladder truck so he could go hook up with some girl he met online."
Eddie nodded.
"I mean, that does sound like something Buck would do."
Hen laughed as Chimney continued.
"And there was another episode where Bobby burned down a whole apartment building back in Minnesota with his family inside and like, he just got away with it."
"Jesus, that's dark," said Hen. "Maybe I should tell Cap to give his ex and the kids a call, just to be safe."
"It was nuts," Chimney sighed. "And it was like the people who made this show just did everything really half-assed. I mean, it was supposed to be our station, but you could tell they just dressed up an old warehouse and for some reason we had black turnouts and helmets instead of yellow. Anybody wanna analyze that for me?"
"I think it means you need a vacation," said Buck as he walked up the station's driveway.
"Buck!" Hen called happily as she threw her arms around him.
Eddie and Chimney exchanged hugs with him.
"It's good to see ya, brother!" Eddie punched his shoulder.
"Thanks," Buck forced a smile. "I missed you guys. Just wanted to say hi on my way in to the office."
Hen gave him a sideways glance.
"That's not why you're really here, is it?"
Buck sighed as he stared at his feet and then looked up at them.
"Uh...Taylor and I broke up."
"Aw, man," Chimney shook his head. "I'm sorry, Buck. What happened?"
"I went for a jog this morning and when I came back, she had her bags packed. She said that she could see how unhappy I'd been ever since I moved to Fire Prevention."
Hen narrowed her eyes.
"But...you did that for her."
"Yeah," Buck nodded. "She apologized. Said it was wrong of her to demand that of me. She felt it was best if we ended things. And honestly, I think she's right. We...we just want different things."
"Well, upside is…" Chimney rested a hand on his shoulder. "We get you back! Tell me you didn't miss riding Big Red, going home smelling like smoke, those 3 a.m. calls for toe pain…"
Buck smiled sheepishly.
"Maybe, but I don't think it's gonna be that easy. The department eliminated five man engines after I left. I'm gonna have to bid on a spot somewhere else."
"Maybe, maybe not," Chief Boden said as he and their captain, Bobby Nash walked outside from the apparatus bay.
"The Chief stopped by to discuss the logistics of the move," Bobby explained, before nodding to Buck. "Sorry about Taylor."
"Captain Nash here was telling me that everybody at the 118 is USAR certified," said Boden. "Did you keep up your qualifications, Firefighter Buckley?"
"Yes, Sir," Buck replied. "Completely."
"Well, as it so happens, one of our squad members is transferring, so we'll have an open spot on A-Shift. I can talk to Captain Severide and see what he thinks."
Buck exhaled.
"Me? On a squad? Thank you, Chief! That would mean the world to me."
Boden nodded and gave him a friendly wink.
"Captain," he shook Bobby's hand. "Good discussion. I'll be in touch."
Before Bobby could reply, the dispatch tones rang out.
"Engine 118, Rescue 918, respond to the traffic collision…"
Boden left and the firefighters quickly said their goodbyes to Buck as they climbed aboard Engine 118. Seconds later, the engine rumbled out of the station and turned into the street, siren wailing, followed by the ambulance.
Buck smiled to himself as he watched them leave.
"See you soon, guys."
XXXXXX
Monday morning.
New Fire Station 118 was placed into service the prior shift, to much fanfare, with an opening ceremony attended by the mayor, fire chief, and city council.
The station was a large, single-story, red brick and glass building with blue trim. It boasted two double wide apparatus bays for the ambulance and three fire rigs, as well as a third single bay for the battalion chief's SUV. Among the numerous features were solar panels on the roof, a large, restaurant quality kitchen, with adjacent patio and barbecue, separate locker rooms for men and women, as well as individual dorm rooms separated by company, a gym, classroom, and various other facilities.
The property itself covered two and a half city blocks. Located on the right side of the station's spacious and gated backyard was a four bay garage dedicated to storage of reserve apparatus. Behind it, stood the brand new offices of the arson squad. A six-story drill tower loomed on the left side of the yard with adjacent training grounds.
The members of 118's A-Shift filed into the station, to begin the first 24 hours in their new quarters.
Mouch walked in through one of the rear apparatus doors and dropped his turnout bag. He turned in place, taking in the sights before him.
"My God, look at this place. It's huge! It looks so clean, too! And there's so much natural light!"
Herrmann cocked his head to one side and chewed his lip.
"This ain't no fire station. It looks more like an office building with fire trucks inside."
"Yeah, it does seem to lack a certain charm, doesn't it?" said a voice from behind him.
"You said it, brother-" Herrmann stopped and turned to see who was talking to him.
"Hey, Herrmann," Bobby smiled. "Good to see you again."
"Bobby Nash!" Herrmann grinned, shaking his hand. "Tell me you're makin' dinner tonight."
Bobby laughed.
"You like lasagna? Brought everything from home already."
"A captain who actually cooks?" said Mouch. "This place just keeps getting better!"
In the backyard, Kidd and Severide pulled their turnout bags from the bed of Severide's pickup.
"Whattaya think?" Stella asked, nodding towards the station as she slung the bag over her shoulder.
"It's...big," Severide chuckled. "You know what they say, though, home is where you make it, right?"
She kissed his cheek.
"See, that's why I love you. You always know the right thing to say."
He shrugged.
"I was really kinda hoping we'd have fire poles, though."
She laughed and shoved him forward.
In the women's locker room, Sylvie tucked in her dark blue uniform shirt as she stood before her open locker.
"Can you believe it? We get our own locker room and showers! We don't have to share with stinky boys anymore!"
"Amen to that!" Violet laughed as she pinned her badge to her shirt. "I can already feel my sense of smell returning."
The door swung open as Hen walked in. She and Sylvie locked eyes then ran forward and threw their arms around each other.
"Sylvie Brett! Girl, I missed you!" Hen called. "It's been too long!"
"Way too long!" Sylvie hugged her back. "When's the last time we ran into each other?"
"That big pile up on the 101. About three years ago."
"Oh yeah! That's the one where that head injury puked on Chimney!"
"That's the one!"
Violet stood by her locker, smiling politely at the two of them.
"Sorry, Violet! This is Henrietta Wilson," Sylvie said, resting a hand on Hen's shoulder. "She and I were in the same paramedic class. It was a combined class with firefighters and us single function medics. I don't know if I would've made it through without her pushing me."
"Oh, stop," Hen laughed. "You're one of the smartest paramedics I know."
"Speaking of smart paramedics," said Sylvie. "Hen, this is Violet Mikami. We've been riding together for two years now. She's not just my partner, though, she's my best friend."
"Nice to meet you, Hen," Violet smiled. "I hope you've got some good stories about my girl, here."
Hen grinned.
"Oh, you bet I do!"
Stella walked in and threw up her hands.
"Shut. Up. Henrietta!"
"Stella!" Hen laughed, before another hug ensued.
Violet chuckled as she closed her locker.
"This is the most women I've ever worked with at a station before. I am loving the vibes here already."
Gallo and Ritter walked out of the men's locker room across the hall.
"Ya hear that?" Gallo said, jerking a thumb towards the women's locker room.
"Four women in a firehouse? We're in trouble."
"Oh stop," Ritter sighed.
Buck stood on the apparatus floor between Truck 118's new rig and the rescue squad.
"Buckley?" asked Severide as he walked up. "Kelly Severide."
"Yes, Sir," Buck shook his hand. "Evan Buckley. I just want to let you know how much I appreciate you taking a chance on me."
Severide opened the rear door of the squad's cab.
"Well, Boden recommended you, so I trust his judgment," he slapped the seat inside the riding compartment. "This is you."
Buck picked up his turnout pants and attached boots and set them inside the cab. He placed his coat and helmet on the seat.
"I won't let you down, Cap."
"I've seen you in action before. That blimp crash last year at the stadium. That was some nice work."
A tone sounded.
"Line up! In front of the rigs," Chief Boden's voice echoed through the station from a loudspeaker. "Let's go! Let's go!"
The firefighters quickly assembled at the front of the station, standing at attention before the squad, engine, truck, and rescue ambulance.
Boden stood with his hands clasped before him as he eyed the members of new Fire Station 118. The three captains, Kidd, Severide, and Nash, stood behind him.
"I know it's a bit old-fashioned to conduct the morning lineup this way, but since we're christening a new station, I thought it might be nice to embrace an old tradition. At least for one day."
He folded his arms.
"We have a unique situation here. It's not every day that crews from two different firehouses are combined to make a whole new one. I know that there may be some growing pains as we go through the process, however, I know that you all will handle it like the dedicated professionals that you are. I've worked with most of you, and for those that I haven't, I look forward to getting to know you. It's been said that the fire service is like a family. That was especially true back at Firehouse 51 and from what I know of Captain Nash, I'm sure it was true at The 118 as well. Both stations had great histories and traditions and I look forward to the new ones that will be forged here..."
He was interrupted by a long tone.
"Engine and Rescue 118, person sick," the dispatcher's voice echoed across the cavernous apparatus floor. "4927 Oak Knoll, cross street Magnolia. Your time is 0838, Metro clear."
Bobby and his crew jogged to Engine 118's brand new pumper, as Sylvie and Violet headed for the red and white striped ambulance.
Chimney climbed into the engine's riding compartment and closed his door as Hen did the same beside him.
"Ah, ya gotta love that new rig smell!" he grinned, slipping on his headset.
"Doesn't take much to excite you, does it, Chim?" Bobby called over his shoulder from the officer's seat.
"He's a man of simple tastes, Cap," Hen chuckled.
Eddie released the air brakes with a hiss and guided the Pierce pumper out of the station as its mechanical siren split the air.
"Hang on," Violet said from the ambulance's shotgun seat as she held up her phone. "Smile."
Sylvie shot her a look as she flipped on the rig's emergency lights.
"Why?"
"It's our first run as Rescue 118. This is history, Brett!"
Sylvie laughed and flashed a quick peace sign for her partner's photograph, before following the engine onto the boulevard.
Chief Boden glanced at the departing rigs and then back at the rest of the firefighters.
"Dismissed."
Stella dropped a hand onto his shoulder.
"It was a nice speech, Chief."
He nodded with a grin.
"Thank you, Captain."
"Truck!" she called stepping past him. "Backyard in five! Ladder drills!"
"Squad, let's do a compartment inventory on the rig," Severide said to his crew.
He gave a casual look over his shoulder as he stepped forward, then stopped when he saw a familiar figure headed up the driveway.
Boden followed his gaze.
"Benny Severide," the chief grinned, stepping out to greet him. "How's retired life treating you?"
"Wallace," the elder Severide flashed a smile as he shook the chief's outstretched hand. "I don't know. I'm not sure that I'm cut out for a life of leisure. Look at this place! They don't build firehouses like they used to anymore, do they?"
"You want a tour?" Boden asked. "I'd be happy to show ya around."
"Maybe later. I came to see my boy, actually."
Boden held up a hand as he headed towards his office.
"Say no more. It was good to see you, Benny."
"You too, Chief."
The younger Severide tilted his head to the side.
"What do you want, Pop?"
Benny looked at him with the same head tilt.
"Well, that sounds awfully accusatory. I thought we were doin' better, you and I."
Severide exhaled with a resigned grin.
"I also know my old man. What do you need, Benny?"
"Well, I'd been fishing with my buddy Tommy up at Big Bear the last few days, so I've been out of the loop, but I read in the paper about that fire you guys rolled on the other night. The one where the older couple died."
Severide's grin faded.
"Yeah. Cruz and I pulled 'em out."
Benny nodded and stared at his feet before looking back up at his son.
"I'm sorry, Kelly. I read it was suspicious in nature."
Severide nodded.
"Yeah. Looks like the torch busted in the front door, then-"
"Then sprayed gasoline around the place and tossed a match?"
Severide gave him a sideways glance.
"That wasn't in the paper. How'd you know that?"
Benny folded his arms.
"There was another one earlier that night, right? Same scenario? Suspicious fire on the ground floor of a multi-level, single family home?"
"That's right. Nash and his crew made the grab. You been talking to some of your old Arson buddies?"
Benny shook his head.
"A few months before I retired, I'd been chasing a guy with the same M.O.. Torch got off on setting fires in occupied dwellings. It's like he wanted to kill somebody. Four fires in total. Two of the fires, the residents made it out before the first companies got there. The other two, our guys made the save."
Severide reached up and rested a hand on the side mirror of the squad.
"So, you think this is the same guy?"
"You know as well as I do, that arson with the sole intent to kill is rare, let alone a serial arsonist whose motivation is murder. I don't believe in coincidences."
"Me either," Severide stared at his father. "So why are you telling me this? Why not head over to Arson?"
Benny took a step back and shook his head.
"I was hoping you could pass it on for me. I figure you probably know who's working the case, and they might be more likely to listen to you than some old smoke eater like me."
Severide pointed over his own shoulder.
"Okay, but the new office is right there. You sure you don't wanna talk to them yourself?"
Benny nodded.
"Yeah. I've been trying to stay away from the job ever since I pulled the pin to try and adjust to retired life, but something like this, I just needed to pass it on, ya know?"
"Okay. I'll let Seager know. Thanks for coming by."
"I gotta go," Benny replied, backing away. "You and Stella should come up to the house this weekend. I'll grill some steaks."
"Yeah. Sounds good."
Severide watched as his father offered a quick wave, then headed back down the apron.
XXXXXX
Sylvie and Violet pulled their gear from the ambulance as the engine's paramedics did the same. The two crews headed up the walkway of a small, one story house with lilac paint.
A middle-aged woman wearing a light blue T-shirt and cut off jeans pulled the door open and waved them inside.
"Oh thank God! Thank God, you're here!"
"What's the problem, ma'am?" asked Sylvie and Chimney in unison, causing Sylvie to glance back at Chimney who raised his hands in apology. Hen elbowed him.
"It's my husband!" the woman replied, leading them inside. "You have to help him, he can't breathe!"
They followed her into the rear bedroom where a man with dark, slightly graying hair sat on the edge of the bed in a T-shirt and sweats, struggling to catch his breath.
"What's your husband's name?" asked Violet as she placed her bag on the floor and knelt before the patient.
"Chuck," his wife sobbed.
Sylvie nodded.
"Chuck, can you talk at all?"
"Not...really..." the man wheezed.
Chimney placed the Lifepak and oxygen case on the bed beside the patient.
"How long's he been like this?", he asked, setting up the oxygen.
The woman held a hand to her mouth.
"I...I don't know. Maybe...ten minutes now?"
"Does he have a history of asthma, ma'am?" asked Bobby as he tapped on the screen of the tablet in his hand. "Has he been sick lately?"
"No. No asthma. He's healthy as a horse."
"Is he on any medication?"
The man shook his head.
"Chuck?" said Sylvie. "We're gonna need to take your shirt off so we can hook you up to our monitor here and check you out. Can we help you do that?"
"Okay..." the man coughed.
Violet and Chimney cautiously pulled off the patient's shirt. The paramedics were taken aback by the large purple bruise they observed on his chest.
"Ma'am, how did your husband get that bruise?" asked Hen.
"He was in a car accident yesterday," the woman replied. "Hit his chest on the steering wheel. The paramedics wanted him to go to the hospital, but he's so stubborn, he refused. Is...is that why he can't breathe?"
"It's a possibility," Sylvie replied, slipping the oxygen mask over the patient's face.
Violet gingerly pressed the bell of her stethoscope to the man's chest and listened to his heartbeat. She moved the bell around to his back and listened to his lungs.
"I've got muffled heart sounds. Breath sounds are decreased."
She pulled the stethoscope from her ears and let it hang from her neck.
"Chuck, are you having any chest pains right now?"
The man nodded as he looked at her, their faces on the same level.
"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain ever, how bad is your chest pain right now?" she asked.
The man held up four fingers on each hand.
"Pain is an eight," she said, glancing back at Bobby who deftly entered the information on his tablet. "Do you hurt anywhere else? "
The patient rubbed the left side of his jaw.
Sylvie placed two fingers on the man's wrist to check his pulse.
"Jugular vein's lookin' distended, too."
Chimney looked at her as he attached the leads from the Lifepak to the patient's chest.
"You thinkin' tamponade?"
Sylvie nodded.
"Maybe. Or CHF..."
"Or a tension pneumothorax," Hen offered. "Remember Beck's Triad?"
Violet scratched her forehead as she thought for a second.
"You mean symptoms of tamponade? Jugular venous distention, muffled heart sounds and uh... hypotension. Well, we've got two of the three."
Sylvie looked up over her shoulder at Bobby.
"Can we get our gurney in here, Cap?"
"On it," Eddie said as he left the room.
Violet wrapped a blood pressure cuff around the man's forearm. Chimney pressed a button on the machine and it began to inflate with a buzz.
She studied the monitor.
"B.P.'s 80 over 40," she reported, before the man suddenly began to sway and close his eyes as a tone sounded from the Lifepak. "Hang on...lost his pulse!"
"Wait, what's going on?" his wife cried. "Please! Someone tell me!"
"I've got ST changes..." Chimney wrapped an arm around the man to keep him upright. "He's in V-tac! Let's get him on the floor."
"Oh God! Oh GOD!" the woman shrieked from the doorway as Hen and Chimney laid their patient down on the floor.
"Ma'am, why don't we give 'em some room to work?" Bobby said, leading her out of the room.
Sylvie began chest compressions, calling them out quietly to herself.
"One, two, three, four, five..."
Violet tore open the packs containing the defibrillator pads and adhered them to the patient's chest.
"Okay, shocking at 200," she called. "Everybody clear!"
The man's body convulsed as 200 joules of electricity pulsed through his body.
"Alright," she sighed, checking the Lifepak's display. "I've got a rhythm."
Sylvie slipped off the oxygen mask, then tilted the man's head back and opened his mouth. She slid the steel blade of the laryngoscope over his tongue. Hen handed her an endotracheal tube. She slid it down the patient's throat and past the vocal chords.
"Alright, I'm in," said Sylvie, connecting the bag valve mask.
Eddie wheeled the gurney into the room and lowered it beside the patient.
He, Henrietta, and Chimney lifted the man onto the stretcher as Sylvie continued squeezing air into his lungs via the BVM.
"Is he gonna be okay?" the wife cried.
"We're doing all we can for him, I promise you," Hen replied.
"Where are you taking him?"
"City of Angels," said Violet before nodding to the others. "Let's go."
XXXXXX
Rescue 118 screamed through traffic with Chimney at the wheel, while Sylvie and Violet continued to work on their patient in the back.
"You guys want me back there?" Chimney called over his shoulder, while keeping an eye on the intersection ahead.
"Clear!" Violet called as another shock was delivered to the patient via the defibrillator. She eyed the monitor's display. "Okay, he converted."
"We're good, Chim," Sylvie answered from the seat at the head of the patient compartment. "Just get us there."
"Pullin' up now," Chimney replied as he turned onto the hospital campus.
He backed the R.A. into a spot in the ambulance bay just outside of the emergency department entrance. He quickly left the rig and jogged to the back where he pulled open the rear doors.
Seconds later, the automatic doors slid open as Sylvie and Violet wheeled their patient into the E.R. with Chimney following.
Sylvie called out the patient's vital signs to the team who filed into the triage area. A nurse directed them into a curtain area.
Dr. Griffin, a young, bespectacled doctor entered, stretching on a pair of exam gloves.
"What the hell took you so long, 118?" he snapped as the paramedics rolled the gurney next to the exam table.
"Patient was really inconsiderate, Doc," Violet replied, unbuckling the gurney's straps. "He went into V-Tac again in the rig and we had to waste time shocking him. I told him you were waiting, but he didn't seem to care."
"Real funny, Mikami," Griffin answered in annoyance.
"On my count," said Dr. Cho, a stocky, bald man with a neatly trimmed white beard. "One...two...three!"
They slid the man off of the gurney and onto the exam table. Sylvie and Violet collected the Likepak and oxygen cylinder and placed them on the gurney before wheeling it out of the room.
"Good job, guys," said Dr. Cho, earning a glare from the younger doctor. "I'll let ya know how he turns out."
"Thanks, Doc," Sylvie replied, before giving her partner a sideways glance as they wheeled the gurney out into the hallway.
"What?" asked Violet. "Tell me he didn't deserve just a little bit of sarcasm."
"He deserves more than that," Chimney said, stripping off his exam gloves as he fell in beside them. "You know how many times he's given me and Hen crap when we've brought in a patient?"
Violet pointed to him as she looked at Sylvie.
"See? He gets it."
"Fair enough," Sylvie chuckled as they made their way back outside to the ambulance.
"Uh, hey listen," Chimney said, scratching the back of his head. "Back there when we first got on scene, I'm sorry about stepping on your entrance. The rescue at our old station was a BLS rig, so I'm used to Hen and I taking the lead on EMS runs. It wasn't intentional."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Sylvie answered, pulling the sheets off of the stretcher. "There's bound to be a few missteps when you throw two stations together like this. We're good. Really."
"Well, still, I'm sorry. I didn't want you to think I was overstepping or anything."
Engine 118 pulled to a stop with a hiss of its air brakes.
"Chim, let's go!" Bobby called from his window. "We got a car fire on Ventura!"
Chimney jogged backwards towards the pumper.
"See you guys back at the house!"
He climbed onto the rig and it pulled out of the lot, siren screaming.
Sylvie watched the engine thoughtfully as it left.
"He seems like a nice guy," she said.
Violet pulled a clean set of sheets from a compartment in the ambulance.
"Oh, I know that look."
"What look?"
"He's spoken for. You know Maddie, the RN that works here in the E.D.?"
"Yeah?"
"They're married."
Sylvie shoulders sagged as she started wiping down the gurney's pad.
"The good ones always are."
"Rescue 118, Metro. Are you available for response?" the radios squawked in unison.
"You wanna take a picture for this run, too?" Sylvie smirked.
"Shut up," Violet chuckled, before keying the mic clipped to the radio strap across her chest. "Rescue 118, we're clearing the hospital. Send us the run."
XXXXXX