graphic by Wendlar
8:00 AM - The Shift Begins
The station kitchen settled into an agreeable silence, as the men from C-shift filed out. Roy filled his cup with the last of the coffee, leaning against the counter, watching his colleagues as they stared blankly into their cups. Everyone always said Mondays were the bane of the working man, but they had never seen this crew on a Sunday morning. Roy smiled to himself, pulling a chair up next to the Captain.
Buttoning his shirt, Johnny walked in from the apparatus bay. He shook his head, casting a sour look over his shoulder.
"Do you know what just happened?" Frustrated, Johnny dragged a hand through his uncombed hair.
Five sets of uninterested eyes turned his way.
"Some lady gave ME the finger as I turned into the station parking lot." Johnny grabbed the coffeepot, waving it in the air for emphasis. "I thought she was going to hit me! I'm making a perfectly legal turn, she almost HITS ME, and I get the finger. ME!"
Five sets of eyes returned to their coffee.
Johnny tipped the coffeepot, oblivious to the absence of liquid entering his cup. Raising it to his lips, he stopped, frowning at the crew. "That woman's a menace to society. If a guy can't make a perfectly legal turn in this world..."
8:15 AM
"...I'm just telling you it's not safe out there on the roads for guys like us." Pausing in his latest rant to take a breath, Johnny finally noticed his empty cup.
Roused by the lack of noise, Roy stood, and taking advantage of the lull, grabbed Johnny by the elbow.
"Come on, Junior. Let's check out the squad."
Four sets of eyes looked up, grateful for the peace and quiet.
9:25 AM
Chet stuck his head out from the washroom. Spying Mike at the engine, he dashed the fifteen feet from door to engineer.
"Mike, if you keep polishing that same spot, you're gonna rub the numbers right off." Chet peeked through the engine's windshield, missing the look from Stoker.
"At least I haven't spent the last half hour hiding in the shower stall." Mike heard voices coming from the back of the bay, and polished his way to the front of the truck.
"Hey, I've been working in there. I've got another month of latrine duty left, remember?" Chet perched on the front bumper. "Besides, you and I aren't the only ones trying to avoid Gage." Chet pointed to Cap's office, catching Marco as he ducked through the doorway.
Johnny wandered into the bay from the kitchen, a puzzled look on his face. "Hey, Marco, where'd you go?" Chet and Mike slunk into the dorm as Johnny started towards the office. "Hey, where is everybody?" The tones sounded, bringing him up short.
"Station 51, report of a possible jumper, Skyway Bridge, respond code R, time out 9:33"
Johnny hopped into the squad, patiently waiting as Roy ran in from the back lot. "Where've you been hiding?"
Roy started the squad, glancing at his partner. "Hiding? Who says I've been hiding?"
9:43 AM
Roy shut off the siren as they neared the bridge, followed a moment later by silence from the engine.
Johnny spotted the lone figure at the apex of the bridge. No other vehicles were in sight as they stopped a short distance from the man. "Looks like we're first on the scene."
Captain Stanley approached the squad as the paramedics got out. "Why don't you two go up and try to talk to him. We'll stay back so we don't spook him." Stanley watched as a patrol car pulled up on the other side of the bridge. Waving the officer back, he continued, "I've called in a marine unit in case he decides to jump."
"Right, Cap." Roy and Johnny walked to the center of the bridge. The man on the other side of the railing was so preoccupied that he didn't hear them approach.
"Take it easy, sir. We're here to help you."
At the sound of Roy's voice, the man jumped, startled, frantically grabbing at the railing.
"What do you think you're doing, scaring someone like that! I could have had a heart attack!"
Roy and Johnny exchanged puzzled looks.
"Sir, we received a call that someone was threatening to jump off this bridge." Johnny tilted his helmet back on his head.
"Jump off the bridge? Oh yes, yes, but not threatening to do it. I'm actually almost ready. I was just finishing securing the last of the ropes before you boys came."
Roy and Johnny walked up to the rail.
"You see, I've read about this new sport. Nothing really big yet, but I'm sure some day it will be, and I am one who likes to be on the cutting edge, so to speak." He bent, adjusting something on his lower legs. "Besides, it really does seem like a scream."
Johnny looked over the railing and saw two coils of rope laid on the ledge, ends tied both to the bridge, and around some contraption on the man's ankles. Below them, he could see the Coast Guard boat moving into position.
"Sir, I really think you should come over to this side before you hurt yourself. It's a long way down to the water." Roy reached for the man's hand.
Smiling, the man took both hands off the railing and waved. "Wish me luck." Both paramedics lunged for the man as he jumped backwards, out of reach.
"YIPPEEEEE!"
They watched, shocked, as the man fell within inches of the water and rebounded up again. He finally settled about 30 feet above the water surface, laughing hysterically the whole time.
Roy shook his head. "I see it, but I don't believe it."
Johnny looked at the rope tied to the bridge. "Bungee cord. He used bungee cord!" Laughing, he turned to Roy. "Man, that's INGENIOUS!"
"Hey, fellas!"
Roy and Johnny looked over the railing at the dangling man.
"Can you figure out a way to get me down?"
10:25 AM
As the squad headed to Rampart to grab some supplies, Johnny sat in the passenger seat playing with a length of bungee cord.
"You know, Roy, this guy could be right. Bungee cord jumping." Johnny stared out the passenger window, visualizing bungee cords hanging from the passing trees. "People are at heart thrill seekers. They'd line up to do something like this." Shaking the vision from his head, he turned to Roy. "I mean, he looked like he was having fun."
Roy glanced at his watch. Hiding was not an option in the squad.
"We'd just have to figure out how to get down afterwards. He didn't have that quite figured out yet." Johnny absently tugged at the cord, brow furrowed in thought.
Roy cast a sideways glance at his partner. "Bungee jumping. You'd have to be crazy, or at least suicidal to want to do that."
Smiling, Johnny settled back into his seat. "That's what I'm counting on. This could be really big."
Roy turned his attention back to the road, as a camper truck swerved into their path from a side street.
Johnny bolted upright in his seat. "Hey, Roy. Look at that."
Ahead of them, the truck was weaving across the lanes. Standing on the rear bumper, hanging onto the camper door handle, was a small child.
"LA, this is squad 51. We have a child hanging onto the back of a moving vehicle. Please respond police to our location. We are currently northbound on Wentworth, just crossing Concession St."
"10-4, 51"
Roy reached over, turning on the lights and siren. "Let's see if we can get them pulled over."
At the initial blast of the siren, the truck cut into oncoming traffic, sending a large delivery van in the path of the squad.
"Look out!"
Roy swerved to avoid the van, watching as the girl's feet slipped off the bumper. She hung from the hatch handle, screaming, her feet dangling inches from the pavement.
"Roy, get closer!" Johnny rolled down his window, sticking his head and shoulders through.
Roy grabbed Johnny's belt, pulling him back into the compartment. "Get back in here!"
As the squad pulled up beside the truck, Johnny used his helmet to bang on the driver's window. "Hey! Pull over!"
The woman glared at Johnny, raised her left hand, and gave him the finger.
"Damn it!" Johnny pulled his head back in the squad. "She's out of her mind! Try to squeeze her to the shoulder."
Speeding ahead, Roy maneuvered the squad even with the truck's bumper. He slowed, forcing the woman to the side of the road, watching as the truck bounced off the curb.
Johnny jumped out of the squad, running to the rear of the vehicle, dreading what he might see.
The girl stood sobbing on the road, still clutching the camper handle. Sweeping her in his arms, Johnny comforted the girl. "It's okay. You're all right sweetheart; I've got you. Are you hurt anywhere?"
The little girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trembling. She shook her head and buried her face in Johnny's shoulder.
"What's your name?" Johnny stroked the girl's hair, calming her.
She laid her head on his shoulder, twirling a strand of hair with her fingers. "My grampa calls me Elly," she whispered, tears drying on her cheeks.
"Elly it is."
Roy, seeing Johnny had the situation under control, knocked on the driver's window. "Ma'am, can I talk to you?"
A tall blonde opened the door and staggered out of the vehicle, forcing Roy back with the strong smell of scotch. "What the hell do you want?" Squinting her eyes in the bright morning sun, she eyed the paramedic's uniform. "What kind of policeman outfit is that?" she sniffed.
Roy noticed Vince pull his cruiser behind the truck. "I'm a fireman, not a policeman. We stopped you because there was a little girl hanging off the back of your truck."
"What do you mean 'little girl'?" She pushed past Roy, tottering to the back. "See, there's nobody here. You must be seeing things. How dare you force me off the road like that!" Whirling to face Roy, she stumbled, slamming her right shoulder into the truck.
Roy rushed forward, trying to steady the woman.
"Get your hands off of me! This is police harassment. I have half a mind to sue!" Pulling herself away from the truck, she swung a fist at Roy.
Moving his head, Roy caught her hand, pushing it away. He grabbed the woman by the shoulders, pointing to the little girl Johnny was holding. "Ma'am, we weren't seeing things."
"Elizabeth Ann!" The woman, hands on hips, yelled at the child. "I told you to stay home. Are you bothering these people?" She took a few threatening steps toward her daughter. "When I tell you to stay home, you do what I say!" Her voice grew to a shrill scream.
Catching the dark expression that crossed his partner's face, Roy held fast to the woman, quickly motioning to Vince. Hoping to avoid a violent confrontation, Vince placed himself between the woman and the hot-tempered paramedic.
Elly cringed away from her mother, circling her arms around Johnny's neck.
Johnny tried to control his mounting anger. "Your little girl could have been killed, don't you CARE about that?" He tightened his arms around the girl, advancing on the woman. "What are you doing driving around drunk! Don't you know any better..."
Vince laid a hand on Johnny's arm, stopping him. "Gage, I'll take it from here. If the girl is fine, you can go."
Johnny couldn't believe Vince's calm attitude. "But Vince, she..."
"I know how you feel, but now's not the time or place. Let me have the girl. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."
Johnny took a step back, rocking Elly. "That woman..."
"That woman is going to jail." Vince held out his arms for the girl, noticing Johnny's hesitation. "She'll go to a safe place, you have my promise. John, you've done all you can, probably saved her life. Now it's time for me to do my job."
Johnny reluctantly allowed the girl to be taken from his arms, telling her everything would be okay. He shot the woman one last withering glance as he climbed in the squad, slamming the door in frustration.
Roy pulled away from the curb as Vince read the woman her rights.
"Did you see her reaction?" Johnny voice rose, his agitation growing. "She almost killed her daughter, Roy, and she was too drunk to care! It's the middle of the morning, and she not only decides to drink herself stupid, but takes her five year old kid on the spiral down." He picked up the bungee cord, twisting it in knots. "What is it with drunks? Don't they know they're not only hurting themselves? They get behind a wheel..."
11:00 AM
".... Think they should lock them up for good."
Roy shut the engine off. "We're here."
Johnny looked around. "Hunh?"
"Supplies, remember?"
"Oh, yeah."
Dixie sat at the nurses' station, trying to concentrate her energy on finishing off two large stacks of reports.
"Hey Dix. We just came in for some supplies." Johnny drummed his hands on the desk.
"Hi guys. I'm kind of swamped here, but if you find Carol, I'm sure she'd help you."
Johnny poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had so far." Trying to get Dixie's attention, he moved to the front of the counter, accidentally knocking over one of the stacks.
Dixie groaned, watching two hours work spill on the floor.
"Oh, sorry." Johnny bent over to help pick up the mess, cracking heads with Dixie on the way down.
"Ow!" Dixie rubbed her forehead, setting her nursing cap back on straight.
"Oh, sorry." Johnny stooped to pick up some files. Juggling the papers and his cup, he splashed coffee on the ones left scattered on the floor.
"Sorry."
Grabbing the files from his hands, Dixie shooed Johnny back from the desk. Roy picked up the rest from the floor, wiping them off before placing them on the counter.
"Thanks Roy."
Johnny took a step back towards the desk, stopping a few feet away on a look from the head nurse.
"Come on, Junior. Let's find Carol." Roy took the cup from Johnny's hand, putting it on the counter, away from the paperwork.
"I'm trying to talk to Dixie, here." Johnny leaned his shoulder against the wall. "Anyway, like I was saying, this morning on my way in to work..."
Dixie looked at Roy, who just rolled his eyes and walked away.
"Hey, where are you going? You're not going to leave him here are you?"
Roy shrugged. "I've heard it already."
"Hey Dix, Dix. Like I was saying, she almost hits me, and she has the gall..."
1:20 PM
"...I mean Vince arrested her and all that, but we were the ones to pull her over, probably saving that little girl."
Marco washed the dishes as quickly as he could without breaking them. Johnny stood beside him drying.
"Maybe firemen should get special badges for things like that. Yeah. If we see trouble, firemen could arrest people...."
Marco dried his hands and fled to the apparatus bay, Johnny right behind him, towel and plate in hand.
"...Really just think about it. Could mean more pay, maybe..."
The Cap placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Pal, where do you think you're going with that?"
Johnny looked at his hands. "Nowhere, Cap. Just drying dishes."
"Well, the kitchen is back that way, buster. Get moving." Cap pushed Gage back towards the door.
Mike and Marco stuck their heads out from in front of the engine.
"Is he gone yet?"
"He's drying dishes. You're safe." They followed the Cap back to his office. Roy sat in a corner reading a magazine.
"Cap, you really have to do something about Gage." Mike leaned against the doorjamb. "Install an off switch or something."
"Maybe we can borrow yours, eh, Mike," Marco teased.
Roy looked up. "Where's Chet?"
"Latrine duty."
"Latrine duty? Marco, he finished up in there this morning."
"Yeah Cap, but it's QUIET in there."
Johnny's head peeked over Mike's shoulder. "Hey guys, what's up?"
Before anyone could answer, the tones sounded.
"Squad 51, unknown rescue, 1503 Fennel Ave, cross street Wellington, 1 5 0 3 Fennel, time out 13:35."
1:45 PM
A young boy stood, leaning on a large SOLD sign in front of a two-story house, waiting patiently for the two paramedics.
"I don't know why my mom called you. She always makes such a big deal over nothing." He dug his hands in his pockets, squinting in the hot sun, wrinkling his freckled nose.
Johnny placed his helmet on the squad, noticing a teenage boy by the front porch, throwing up into some bushes.
"Is he the one she called about?" Grabbing the drug box, Johnny started toward the house, Roy following close behind.
"Sorta. That's my brother Jake, I'm Todd. The rest of them are inside."
As Johnny stopped to look at Jake, Roy walked up to the front door. Pausing, he turned to Todd. "What exactly do you mean by the rest of them?"
Shrugging his shoulders, the boy brushed past Roy, opening the front door for him.
The smell was overwhelming.
Below a large 'Congratulations on Your New Home' banner, a starchy, graying, middle aged woman sat slumped against the wall, holding a plastic beach bucket. Three younger men sprawled on a nearby couch, one with his head over a large metal mixing bowl, retching.
"Oh, thank God you're here." Holding a washcloth to her face, a woman stepped into the living room from the kitchen.
Johnny joined Roy at the door. "The boy out here seems fine, but he said that somebody else..." Johnny stared, openmouthed.
"Well, come in, come in, don't stand there like dummies!" The woman under the banner clutched her bucket closer. "Just be very careful where you step."
Gingerly making his way past drying pools of vomit, Roy approached the older woman. "Ma'am, what exactly happened here?"
"What does it look like?" She pointed at the paramedic patch on Roy's uniform. "Aren't you people supposed to be trained. Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"Mother Sweeney, please. The firemen are just trying to do their job." Smiling apologetically, the younger woman sat on the arm of the sofa, stroking the hair of the young man beside her.
"They look like they're just being bumps on a log to me." Mother Sweeney pulled her arm away as Roy reached for it, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I'm just trying to get your pulse, okay?" Roy tried for his best non-threatening smile.
"Humph."
Johnny knelt next to the sofa, grimacing as he felt his knee sink into wetness. "Oh, man!"
Mother Sweeney cackled from her perch.
"When did you start feeling sick, miss...?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Maria Sweeney. These are my brothers Michael, Larry, and Dennis." She nodded her head across the room. "You've already met my mother-in-law." The sounds of a flushing toilet drifted down the stairs. "Oh, my husband and father-in-law are upstairs. They're sick too."
Johnny moved down the sofa to the man with his head in the bowl. "Hey, how you doing in there?" He tried to keep the tone light.
Larry raised his head, glowering. "I'm king of the friggin' world."
"Oh, okay." Johnny sat back on his haunches. "Why don't you just go back to what you were doing."
Todd snickered from his vantage point by the kitchen.
"Roy, I'm gonna go upstairs and check the other two out."
"Go ahead. I'll get some more information, and contact Rampart." Roy turned to Maria. "So, when did you all get sick?"
"Well, it all started about an hour ago. We just bought this house, and our families thought it would be nice to have a little party." She paused as Larry threw up in his bowl. "Mother Sweeney made some of her punch, and we all toasted to our good fortune."
"So all of you had punch. Did you all have the same things to eat?" Roy wrote some notes in his book.
"No. Mother Sweeney is very picky about what she eats, and always brings her own food." Roy noticed an undercurrent of hostility in Maria's pleasant tone.
"I can't help it if I have a delicate composition." Mother Sweeney put down her bucket as she rearranged her skirt. "Maybe if you learned to use a little less spice in your cooking, others might be able to eat it."
The stresses of the day proved to be too much for Maria.
"Maybe if you weren't such a holier than thou wrinkled up old windbag, you could eat normal food!" She slapped her hand to her mouth, too late to stop herself.
Mother Sweeney sat, stunned. Todd stood wide-eyed, watching the play-by-play. Nobody ever talked to his grandmother that way.
Dennis and Michael stared at their sister. Larry lifted his head from the bowl. "Way to go, sis!"
"Now, let's keep this civil. I need to find out what caused this, and fighting isn't going to help matters any." Roy stepped between the two women, feeling the icy glare from the mother-in-law on his back. Maria's face was flushed, whether from sickness or victory, Roy couldn't tell.
At that moment, Johnny bounded down the stairs.
All eyes turned to him. He could feel a definite chill in the air that wasn't there earlier. "What did I miss?"
Mother Sweeney stood, nose in the air. "I'm going upstairs to my husband and MY SON. They NEED me." Her heels clicked loudly as she went up the stairs, Maria flinching with each step.
"I don't think I'll be getting many visits from Mother Sweeney anymore." Maria whispered into her hand, hiding her slight smile.
Johnny arched his eyebrow at Roy, who arched both of his right back.
"Both people upstairs seem to be fine now." Johnny looked at Larry on the sofa. "How's it going down here?"
"I was just about to narrow down what might have caused this, when..." Roy nodded his head toward the stairs, the staccato sound of sensible shoes ricocheting off the walls.
"Ahhh..." Johnny looked expectantly at Maria.
"As I was saying," Maria quickly regained her composure, "the only thing we all had was the punch. A few minutes after the toast, we all started getting violently ill." She looked at the living room carpet, sighing. "No warning or anything." She stared vacantly into space for a moment, a large grin working it's way onto her face. "You should have seen Mother Sweeney. It was almost worth it."
Johnny spotted Todd at the punch bowl, and was struck by a sudden thought. "You said everyone had punch." He looked from Todd to Maria. "You mean everyone but Todd. He didn't get sick."
Maria shook her head. "No, no, Todd had punch too. He was such a little gentleman, getting everyone drinks."
Johnny narrowed his eyes. He had lived too many years with The Phantom not to see the mayhem potential in this situation.
"Todd, can I talk to you for a second?" Todd backed through the kitchen door, bumping into the stove, as Johnny advanced on him.
"What? I didn't do anything!" Todd measured up Johnny, wondering what he might suspect.
"My little Todd is a bit of a practical joker, I'll admit, but he wouldn't try to poison us." Maria stopped beside her son, putting a protective arm around his shoulders.
"Ma'am, everyone who drank the punch got sick, except the one who passed them out. Now, I don't know about you, but to me, that smells like a rat."
Maria knelt down next to Todd, gazing at his face, looking for something only a mother could know.
She found it.
"Todd Sweeney! What did you do?" She took him by the arms, disbelief on her face.
The gig was up.
"I didn't poison you, mom. It was a joke." Todd dug the toe of his sneaker into the kitchen mat. "Eddie got some stuff from his dad's office. He said he gave some to his sister last week, and she threw up for three hours." Todd looked at his mother. "I just thought it would be funny to see. Eddie couldn't stop talking about it."
"Where does Eddie's dad work?"
"He's a doctor. He works at the Reeve St. Clinic."
Johnny nodded his head. Pieces were falling into place. He returned to the living room, explaining things to Maria. "It sounds like Ipecac, or something like it. That would explain how quickly it came on, and why you don't really feel sick."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Not really. It's something doctors use to make people throw up. You should all be fine, but we'll contact the hospital just in case."
"Why did Larry get so much sicker than the rest of us?" Maria pointed at the sofa, where Larry was still communing with his bowl.
"I can answer that," Dennis piped up. "I only had a sip of my drink, I thought it tasted awful, so Larry had the rest." Dennis punched his brother in the arm, good-naturedly. "That'll teach you to be such a glutton."
2:30 PM
"10-4, Rampart." Roy closed up the biophone. "Well, Rampart says that there's no need for any of you to go to the hospital. Just drink plenty of liquids to get yourselves rehydrated, and if you have any discomfort, see your doctor."
"That's wonderful!" Maria hugged her husband, watching as Mother Sweeney pushed her way out the door, husband in tow.
Todd shuffled in from the kitchen, hands behind his back, head down. He slowly made his way over to Johnny.
"I'm sorry for everything. I'll never do it again." The boy looked contrite, giving Johnny his most heartfelt smile, eyes slightly downcast.
Johnny packed up the drug box, wiping his arm on his face. "It's very dangerous to play tricks on people like that, and you should never fool around with drugs. You were lucky nobody got hurt. Next time, think of the consequences of your actions."
"Yes, sir." Todd looked Johnny straight in the eye. "You look hot. Here, I brought you a cold drink." Todd pulled an ice filled glass from behind his back.
"Thanks kid. No hard feelings?" Johnny took a large swallow, noticing a strange aftertaste. "What is this stuff?"
Todd grinned from ear to ear. "No hard feelings."
Johnny looked at the glass, then at the punchbowl. "Why, you little..." Johnny lunged after the kid, who ran laughing out the door.
Roy got a grip on Johnny's arm before he could follow. "Maybe you should stay in here for a bit."
"WHAT? Roy, that kid just tried to poison me, and you want me to stay here?" Johnny heard his stomach rumble. "Oh."
"The bathroom is the second door on the left upstairs. I am so sorry, I really am."
Johnny could still hear Maria apologizing profusely as he sped up the stairs.
5:15 PM
Roy threw the squad in park, killing the engine. The ride back from the hospital had been a pleasantly quiet change of pace. He had to stifle a laugh, remembering the look on Dr. Early's face when Johnny had flown past him at the hospital, almost knocking him down in his haste for a washroom. Early had ended up keeping them there until he felt Johnny was ready for duty, despite repeated, albeit weak, protests.
Johnny sat resting his head against the window, as mad at the boy as he was at himself. He had spent the last 10 minutes wondering if the pattern of the day had repeated itself once again.
"You know, Roy, when we left the Sweeney's, that kid was hiding in the bushes by the front porch. I can't be sure, but I think he gave me the finger." He slid out the door, heading for the lockers and a fresh set of clothes, muttering to himself. "That would make three today."
Roy didn't have the heart to tell him about Dixie.
"Hey, Roy. How's Johnny?" Chet lounged on the couch, Henry sleeping contentedly on his lap.
"He's okay. Dr. Early gave him a clean bill of health." Roy grabbed himself a cup of coffee, and sat at the table. "He'll be here in a minute. He's getting cleaned up."
Marco stopped peeling the mound of potatoes that sat in front of him. "Thanks for the warning." He divided the potatoes, pushing half in front of Mike.
Chet untangled himself from Henry, plopping himself in a chair next to Roy. "So what's the deal with the kid? You weren't pulling my leg when you called earlier, were ya?"
Johnny walked in from the bay, tucking in his shirt. Everyone paused as he stopped by the fridge for a glass of milk.
Chet started humming.
Putting the carton back in the fridge, Johnny listened to the familiar tune. Walking to the couch, he finally recognized it: the Plop Plop Fizz Fizz jingle.
Ignoring him, Johnny flopped next to Henry, his back to the table.
It was much too quiet for Chet.
"Hey, Johnny. I heard a ten year-old kid pulled one over on you." Chet shook his head in disgust. "Man, you have to be the biggest stooge on earth."
Johnny tugged at Henry's ears.
"You know, that kid has my respect for life." Chet watched Johnny closely for a reaction. "I should take him under my wing and help him develop those natural talents." He waved his hand in the air. "I can see it now, 'The Phantom and Son', or 'The Phantom and Phantom Junior'."
Cap folded down the top of his newspaper, and glared at Chet. "We had that discussion, remember?"
"Oh yeah, Cap, The Phantom is officially retired, but that kid just brings out the parental instinct in me."
"You mean the Phantom instinct, don't you." Marco dug another potato out of the pile.
Chet swiveled to face John. "So Gage, how'd he do it? Wrestle you to the floor and pour it down your throat? Maybe he cast a spell on you."
"Chet," Johnny growled, teeth clenched.
"Not even you would be stupid enough to drink something handed to you by a kid who just poisoned his entire family." Chet could see Johnny's blood pressure rising. "That kid must have that built in stooge radar, and your problem, Gage, is that you broadcast it loud and clear."
"I don't have a problem, other than loud mouthed jerks." Johnny blew his stack, directly at Chet.
"Oh, I'm a loud mouth jerk." Chet had wound Johnny up, and he was going to enjoy the show. "At least I'm not a half-wit, outsmarted by a baby."
Mike and Marco exchanged looks, coming quickly to a mutually unspoken agreement. They pushed both piles of potatoes across the table to Chet, got up, and walked out.
"You're problem, Chet, is..."
Cap folded the sports section, placing it on the table with the rest of the paper.
"...Gage, the word is chump. C - H - U..."
Scraping back the chair, he left, Sunday edition in hand, wishing not only that his office had a lock, but that it was soundproof as well.
"...Oh, yeah. Your last one didn't go so well..."
Roy grabbed an apple from the fridge, and refilled his cup.
"...All your fault! Cap wouldn't have eaten..."
He headed for the station's front lawn, where, in the relative peace and quiet of traffic noise, he could enjoy his snack.
10:10 PM
Mike looked at the cards in his hand. Two fives, a seven, a jack, and a ten. Typical. He was down twelve dollars, and most of it sat across from him, in front of Gage.
"I bet a dollar."
Mike was sure the bill Johnny threw in was his.
"Gage, the only reason you're winning, is that you're talking so much, no one can concentrate." Chet threw in his hand. He was down sixteen bucks.
Roy had a possible straight, needing a seven or a queen. He looked at the money piled in front of his partner, realizing Chet was right. With all his incessant chatter, Johnny had won almost every hand. He should do what Marco had done: take what money he had left and go to bed.
"Can I help it if I want to make conversation. Someone's got to keep this place lively."
Roy threw in his bet. He knew he shouldn't, but it was so hard to think.
"Just look at Roy, Chet. He's down more than you, and he’s not folding." Johnny watched as the Cap threw in his dollar.
Roy looked down at his money, or lack thereof. Joanne was going to kill him.
"Dealer folds." Mike picked up the deck, dealing out cards to those who wanted them.
Johnny fanned out the cards in front of his face, smothering a smile.
"Well, I guess I bet first." Johnny picked up five dollars, slapping it on the table.
"That'd be five big ones to you, partner. You in?"
Roy picked up his extra card.
A seven.
He looked at Johnny, who was literally squirming in his seat, trying to contain his excitement.
"Well? Come on, you must have five dollars left." Johnny reached across the table.
Roy threw down his cards. The way his partner was acting, he had to have something that beat a straight. Roy pocketed the six dollars he had left.
"I'm out." Roy stood, heading for the dorm.
Johnny looked expectantly at the Cap.
"Just you and me, Cap. What's it gonna be?"
Roy pushed open the door to the dorm, freezing when he heard shouts behind him.
Captain Stanley stomped through the bay, pushing his way past Roy, Chet and Mike close on his heels.
"Hey, what happened?" Roy whispered to Chet.
"The Cap lost." Chet watched Johnny waltz into the room, counting his money.
Roy nodded his head. "Yeah, but the Cap's lost before, and I've never seen him this mad."
"It's not the fact that he lost, but..." Chet coughed into his hand when he saw the Cap level his steely gaze at him.
Chet sat on the bed, motioning for Roy.
"It's the fact that the Cap folded with a flush."
Roy stared at Chet, not understanding.
"The Cap had a flush, Roy. He folded. Johnny won." Chet watched Johnny put his winnings away. "Johnny was bluffing."
"What?" Roy couldn't believe his partner was that good an actor.
"Oh yeah. He had a pair of three's. I thought the Cap was gonna hit the roof." Chet looked at Johnny in a whole new light. "He played the Cap for a stooge, and won."
"You know, men, if any of you want me to give you lessons in the fine art of poker playing, just let me know." Johnny unbuttoned his shirt, radiating smugness.
"Shut up, Gage." Marco called from his bunk, half-asleep.
"Marco, you weren't there. I was great!"
Cap shut out the lights, leaving Johnny in darkness.
"No, I really mean it. I could pass on the secrets to knowing when to fold, when to make the big bets, even when to bluff."
"Shhhh." Mike rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head.
"You're all just a bunch of sore losers, that's all." Johnny sat on the edge of his bunk, unlacing his shoes.
"Gage, shut up!" Chet crushed his pillow over his head.
"What's the matter, Chet? Did I hurt your feelings? Don't worry, even though you couldn't win at cards to save your life, you'll always be my 'little cream puff'."
WHUMP
The pillow caught him in the side of the head.
"Hey! Who threw that?"
"Shut up, Gage!"
Johnny sat stunned. He had no idea that the Cap's aim was that good.
3:31 AM
The dorm lights flashed on, the station tones echoing in the night. Six tired men rolled out of their beds, stepping into turnout gear, rushing for the emergency vehicles.
Someone was in trouble.
"Station 51, engine 10, man hurt in explosion, McKinley First National Bank, 2435 Nash Boulevard, time out 3:31."
3:49 AM
Three police cars blocked the street on either side of the McKinley First National Bank, allowing room only for the engine and squad to pass by. Engine 10 already sat parked across from the squat, brick building, its crew making their way up the wide front steps.
Glass shards glistened like diamonds in the street, changing to sapphires and rubies as the emergency lights swept over the area.
Windows, emptied of their glass, allowed the breeze to catch the blinds that hung askew inside, rattling and banging against the casings. The left side of the large wooden double door hung crooked in its frame.
Captain Sinclair, from Engine 10, talked with Officer Vince Howard. Watching 51 pull up, he waved Captain Stanley over.
"Hank, we've got a real bad one here." Sinclair quickly glanced at the bank, waiting and receiving the confirmation from his crew that they had shut off the gas main.
"What have we got? Gas explosion?" Hank could see the explosive damage caused to the bank, but he could see no evidence of fire.
Vince cleared his throat. This was his department.
"No. Bank robbery."
"Bank robbery?" Hank looked at the building. "I don't get it. It's four in the morning, there's no one here to rob."
"That was their idea, no witnesses." Vince pointed down the road to his cruiser. A young man sat in the rear seat, forehead against the front headrest.
Captain Stanley had heard Vince say 'their', and he saw only one man in the car. He motioned for Roy and Johnny to come over.
"What's up, Cap?"
"Hey, Vince."
Vince continued on a nod from Sinclair.
"Boys, there's a man trapped in the back of the bank. We don't know where exactly, but according to his partner, he got caught in the explosion."
"Right." Johnny ran back to the squad, grabbing pry bars and flashlights. Sinclair waved him back before he crossed the street.
Roy stood staring at the building, the nervousness plain on his face.
"Okay, what did I miss?" Johnny got nervous when his partner got nervous.
Captain Stanley took one of the flashlights from the young paramedic, handing it to Roy.
"They used explosives to blow the door off the vault. It looks like they used too much, and it may have gone off too soon. That's why one of them is trapped."
Johnny caught the quick glance Stanley shot Sinclair, and swallowed, hard.
"And..."
"And they also decided to cover their tracks after the robbery. The whole place is wired with enough explosives to turn it into dust." Stanley nodded to Vince.
"The guy we caught had his watch set to go off one minute before the main charges blew." Vince handed the watch to Roy. "It's 3:51 right now. When that alarm beeps, get out of there fast."
Roy glanced at the watch, confirming the time. He took his gloves out of his coat pocket, and placed the watch there.
"When's the bomb squad getting here?" Roy wished they were there now.
Vince shook his head.
"Roy, there isn't time for the bomb squad. The charges are set to go off at 4 o'clock sharp."
Captain Stanley set his watch.
"Get going boys. You have less than eight minutes to find him and get him out."
3:52 AM
Roy and Johnny surveyed the damage from inside the bank.
Desks and chairs had been blown forward in the blast, resulting in a large barricade of furniture across the entranceway.
Carefully moving office chairs and smashed typewriters, the paramedics cleared a narrow path to the bank's main floor, careful of the florescent lighting fixtures that dangled from live wires above.
The air was full of dust and ozone. Electricity arced like little lightning bolts, as wires swayed in the breeze that drifted in through the windows. The large lobby echoed with the sounds of a million bees.
"Hey, Roy," Johnny's light bounced off filing cabinets and teller stations as he swung it around. "Doesn't this place remind you of Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory?"
His partner was going to have to stop watching horror movies. "Only if his lab was wired with explosives."
Johnny's light caught something stuck to the wall.
It was a large pack of C-4 explosive. Moving the beam across the walls, he saw packs set about every fifteen feet around the perimeter of the bank.
"Right." Johnny quickly aimed the light at the floor. Looking over his shoulder, he locked eyes with Roy.
He had seen them too.
"Engine 51, this is HT 51. Do you copy?" Roy eyed the exposed wires, watching as an arc was created when a broken line touched the leg of a metal chair.
"HT 51, this is engine 51. Go ahead."
"Cap, we've got a lot of live wires hanging in here. Can someone get the power shut off to the bank?" Roy watched his partner climb over the counter, heart skipping a beat when Johnny came within inches of the metal chair.
"10-4, HT 51. The power should be cut any minute."
Roy quickly glanced at his watch.
3:53 AM
Captain Stanley watched the electric company employee stick his head out from the underground power relay.
"You do realize that this is double time for me?"
"I don't care if you win the 'Nobel Prize' for doing this, just do it already!"
"Okay, okay. Don't get snippy." He ducked back down, shutting off the power.
Stanley gave him a hand out of the hole.
"Thanks."
Stanley watched as Mike backed the engine away from the building, Sinclair's man doing the same with their truck.
"You may want to move your car out of here." He pointed to the station wagon pulled up in front of the bank.
"Why, you gonna ticket me or something?"
"Or something."
Muttering something about triple time, the man got in his car, driving to the other side of the police barricade.
"Hey, Hank. Any word from your men on the victim, yet?" Sinclair trotted up to Stanley, still barking orders into his HT.
Stanley watched the two engine crews run lines from the trucks, piling one set near the front of the bank, the others running along the back of the parking lot, towards the rear of the building. Chet, dropping some of the hose he was running, stopped to move the squad out of harm's way.
"No, no word yet."
Captain Sinclair looked at his watch. "Your guys have less than five minutes left."
3:54 AM
The vault at the back of the bank had been blown open, leaving the heavy steel door hanging from its lower hinges.
Most of the ceiling and surrounding walls had collapsed in the explosion, creating a small mountain of debris.
"Man, how we gonna find someone alive in there?" Johnny swung his flashlight beam over the mess.
Putting his light on the ground, Roy started moving pieces off the mound. "We just try."
The bank fell still, the bees silenced. The only sounds now were the blinds rattling in the broken windows.
"Power's off."
Roy wiped at the sweat that stung his eyes. His partner's acute sense of the obvious always amazed him. He looked up at the large clock that sat above the manager's office. In the faint light of the outside street lamps, he could see the second hand frozen, stopping time.
3:55 AM
"Hey, Roy. I think I've got something here!"
Roy climbed over the pile of wreckage he had moved, watching as Johnny crawled under the rubble.
Johnny inched forward on his belly, trying to reach the man's arm to see if he could find a pulse.
"Is he alive?" Roy aimed the light so Johnny could see the victim better.
Finding a weak but rapid pulse, Johnny reached through some broken beams, checking the man's eyes for a reaction to the light.
Roy watched as Johnny backed out, brushing the dust from his face.
"He's alive, but unconscious. Pulse is 120 and weak, and his pupils are unequal but reactive."
"How badly is he buried in there?" Roy started throwing ceiling tiles across the room.
"I couldn't tell." Johnny looked at his watch.
3:56 AM
"Lopez, Kelly! Get those inch and a halves as far away from the building as you can!"
Sinclair had called in additional units, and Stanley watched as Engine 28 and Aerial Truck 110 pulled up down the block, waiting to move into position.
Fearing that the blast would not only take out the bank, but the surrounding buildings, the fire trucks had all been moved half a block down, the police barricade two blocks in all directions.
Television trucks, scanning emergency channels, started surrounding the scene, camera crews and reporters trying to slip past police.
One intrepid newspaper reporter had climbed the fire escape of the building across from the bank. He wouldn't have been caught, except he forgot to turn off the flash on his camera when snapping pictures of the firemen.
Stanley shook his head, amazed. The risks some people took for their jobs.
He looked at his watch, thinking of his two paramedics.
3:57 AM
Both Johnny and Roy were breathing hard, sweat pouring from them, making it difficult to grip the heavier pieces of debris.
The man's head and shoulders were free now, but he was still buried from the lower back, down. He had a very bad scalp laceration, what looked like a bad concussion, and at least five broken ribs, by Roy's quick assessment. He was still unconscious.
Johnny tried moving a large beam from across the man's legs, grunting with the effort.
"Roy, help me with this."
Together, they grasped the end, lifting it up and off the man.
SCREECH
Both men turned, hearing metal ripping from metal.
The vault door, supported only by the lower hinges and one recently removed beam, tore away from the wall.
"MOVE!"
Johnny and Roy dove for the floor, the door crashing down over the paramedics.
Darkness and dust settled. Roy lay with his arm next to his face, the only source of light the glowing numbers on his watch face.
3:58 AM
"Are you okay?" Roy moved his arms and legs, surprised not to find them crushed.
He heard movement beside him as his partner took stock of his own limbs.
"I don't know why, but I am." Seeing no exit in front of him, Johnny wormed his way backwards, breathing a sigh of relief when his head cleared the fallen door.
Roy popped up beside him, his helmet falling off as it caught on a broken hinge.
The vault door had fallen across the pile of rubble, its upper end smashing into the back of the teller’s counter, crushing it down until it barely stood a foot off the floor.
"That was too close."
Roy saw a small metal safe crushed at the base of the counter, a quarter of the size that it used to be. Johnny and his understatements.
Johnny made his way back to the victim. The vault door had swung back as it fell over, just missing the man's skull by inches.
"Let's get this done, there's not much time."
They started working furiously at the rubble on the man, encountering heavy steel and wooden beams as they dug.
Beep Beep Beep
Roy stopped, listening.
"Johnny, hold it a second."
Johnny threw down a chunk of concrete, and looked at Roy, wondering what was wrong.
Beep Beep Beep
The noise was coming from Roy's coat pocket.
He reached in, pulling out the watch Vince had given him earlier. The one-minute countdown had already begun.
"JOHNNY! ROY!"
Both men jumped as Captain Stanley's voice roared from the HT.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! NOW!"
Johnny looked at the man they were trying to save, then looked at Roy.
They had been trained to save people's lives, not abandon them.
"GAGE! DESOTO! NOW!"
Johnny and Roy ran through the bank, pushing aside dead electrical wires and jumping over piled furniture.
4:00 AM
Roy pushed through the big double doors of the bank, taking the steps three at a time.
He could hear Johnny coming up behind him, gasping for more oxygen as he ran to beat the devil.
They passed the corner of the bank, the engine crews a few hundred yards down the street, screaming for them to run faster.
KA -BOOM
Roy felt the explosion before he heard it.
The ground swayed under his feet, and he felt the force of the blast rush in from behind, picking him up. It was as if he was being carried in the hand of a giant.
Just before hitting the pavement and losing consciousness, Roy glimpsed Johnny out of the corner of his eye.
He was in the giant's other hand.
11:00 AM
Captain Stanley made the rest of the crew wait in the hall as he stuck his head in the hospital room.
"Hey, fellas. Up for some visitors?"
Roy put aside the magazine he had been reading, waving the Cap in.
"We'd love some company, wouldn't we, Johnny?"
Johnny, in the other bed, his right arm in a cast and bandages across his ribcage, nodded.
Cap led the troops into the room.
"So, how are the two of you doing? Last we saw you, squad 110 was loading the two of you into the back of an ambulance." Pulling up a chair, Cap sat between the two beds.
"Bumps and bruises, a couple of broken bones. Nothing we haven't dealt with before, right, Johnny?"
Johnny nodded his head, wincing as he repositioned himself in the bed.
"How about the bank? Was it totally destroyed?" Roy had seen some footage of the explosion on the early news, but the news camera’s film was blurry, and shot from too far away to make out many details.
"You should have seen it!" Marco's eyes lit up with the memory. "It was like every Fourth of July rolled into one."
"Yeah, and you two bozos looked like a couple of balloons in the parade." Chet moved beside Johnny's bed, waiting for him to start mouthing off.
Johnny sneered at Chet, but didn't say a word.
"You're being awfully quiet there, Gage. What's the matter? Did that big bad ten year-old come visit you this morning?" Chet poured Johnny a drink. "He left you this."
Johnny took a swing at Chet, missing, as Chet stepped back from the bed.
"Oh, sorry guys, I forgot." Roy grinned from ear to ear. "Johnny broke his jaw. They had to wire it shut." He settled back in bed. "Did I tell you it’s been a real QUIET morning?"
Johnny glared at Roy as the others started laughing. He decided non-verbal communication was his best reply.
Johnny flipped Roy the bird.
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