Thunder boomed occasionally in the distance. It had been threatening to storm all week, and though there had been plenty of thunder and lightening, the rain had not been forthcoming.
Johnny sat at the station’s kitchen table, staring steadily at a dollar bill. Without moving his head, his eyes glanced left, then right. After a pause he said, “Eight sixes.”
After another, even more dramatic pause, Chet, who was seated at the table along with the rest of the crew, looked up from his dollar and replied, “Twelve sixes.”
“Twelve sixes?” asked Johnny, laughing in surprise. When he saw Chet wasn’t joking, his expression sobered, and he repeated thoughtfully, “Twelve sixes.”
“No Johnny, I said ‘twelve sixes,’ now you have to say something different,” taunted Chet.
Johnny gave Chet a dirty look and opened his mouth in retort, but was interrupted by the station’s alarm…
“Squad 51, injured hikers, Bald Mountain area. Meet Copter 8 at Overland and Northgate…
***
“This is not going to be a good day,” said Johnny as the squad pulled up to the rendezvous area. The chopper had not yet arrived.
“Why do you say that?” asked Roy, turning off the engine, and getting out of the squad.
“You know who the Copter pilot is, don’t you?”
Roy shrugged.
“Donald Watson!”
“So? Watson’s a great guy and a good pilot,” said Roy, unloading equipment.
“He’s crazy! Certifiable!” exclaimed Johnny.
“What? Ohhhhh! You’re still upset about that little joke he played on you and Chet ? That was last year, Johnny, forgive and forget already,” suggested Roy, hiding a smirk.
“JOKE??? JOKE !!! He nearly got us killed!”
Roy remembered how green Chet and Johnny had been when Watson had finally landed the aircraft after a few, not-strictly-regulation, aerial acrobatics. “Well, you guys were giving him a hard time,” said Roy. He couldn’t help adding, “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
“Well, now, I admit we were riding him pretty hard, but that’s no excuse for trying to kill us!” argued Johnny.
“Johnny,” began Roy reasonably, “If he had been trying to kill you, then he would have had to kill himself too, right?”
“I’m not so sure about that,” grumbled Johnny, but he knew Roy was right.
“Just don’t aggravate him this time,” said Roy, not wanting a front row seat in a repeat performance.
“No problem!” said Johnny. After a pause he added hopefully, “Maybe he won’t remember me?”
Roy choked back a chuckle. Chet and Johnny had found out about Watson over at 86’s, where Watson had worked previously. Turns out the man had SWAT and sniper training, was a certified scuba and rapelling instructor, and had black belts in several martial arts. The list of his accomplishments just went on and on and on. Chet and Johnny had been teasing him, calling him “Superman.” Watson took it good-naturedly at first, but eventually, their kidding around began to grate, “And they wouldn’t take a hint,” thought Roy, giving Watson credit. From everything Roy had heard, what Watson had done to Chet and Johnny was small potatoes compared to what he had done to some who had rubbed him the wrong way, including past supervisors. Which explained, in part, his fairly regular switch in careers over the years. Everything he had heard though, led him to believe that Donald Watson was a great guy to have at your back if things got bad. Roy just made it a point to stay on his good side.
“We were just joking around with him you know. He didn’t have to do all that,” continued Johnny, still nursing his grudge.
“Yeah, well, he was just joking around with you too,” said Roy.
“Well, he seemed pretty damn serious to me!” replied Johnny, still smarting at the memory.
“I’ll tell you something I heard over at 86’s about Watson,” said Roy.
“Oh yeah?” asked Johnny.
“Yeah. He used to be a cop. You know that right?”
“Yeah,” replied Johnny.
“Well, did you also hear he got a medal for pulling his partner out of the middle of a shoot out?” asked Roy. When Johnny shook his head, Roy continued, “And that he had been shot himself when he did it?”
“No,” said Johnny, thoughtfully, “I hadn’t heard that.”
“Trust me, Johnny, he’s a tough son-of-a-gun. He was just playing with you guys.”
Johnny looked as if he were trying to digest that information. Thunder boomed again and they could see lightening striking in the distance.
Roy frowned and looked at his watch. He reached in the squad and grabbed the mic, “LA, this is Squad 51.”
“Go ahead 51,” replied LA.
“LA, we’re at Overland and Northgate. What is Copter 8’s ETA at our location?” he asked.
“Stand by 51,” came a puzzled-sounding reply.
Roy could hear headquarters trying to contact the helicopter…
“Copter 8, LA.”
Johnny stepped in closer so that he could hear the radio as well.
“Copter 8, this is LA, come in.” After a long pause, “Copter 8, this is LA, do you read?”
Roy and Johnny exchanged surprised glances.
“You don’t think he’s fooling around, do you?” asked Johnny.
“Copter 8, this is LA, do you read?”
“Not with injured people,” replied Roy.
“LA, this is Copter 6, I have the hikers in view, injuries appear minor. I am available to transport,” came a new voice over the radio.
“10-4, Copter 6, proceed,” came LA’s reply.
“Copter 10, LA,” radioed headquarters.
“This is Copter 10, go ahead,” replied the pilot.
“Copter 10, proceed to Overland and Northgate, rendezvous with Squad 51 and begin a search for Copter 8.”
“10-4,” came Copter 10’s reply.
“Squad 51, LA,” came the dispatcher voice over the radio, “Did you copy?”
“10-4, LA, standing by for Copter 10,” replied Roy. He replaced the mic and leaned against the squad, thoughtfully.
“What do you supposed could have happened that he didn’t have time to radio in before he went down?” asked Johnny.
Roy shook his head.
A minute or two later they heard a helicopter approaching. Even though they knew it must be Copter 10, they couldn’t help but hope it would be the missing chopper --they were disappointed. The paramedics picked up their gear and sprinted toward the helicopter, ducking as they approached the deadly blades, and sliding the door shut behind them as they jumped in. They quickly took their seats, fastened their belts, and put on the headphones so that they could talk to the pilot and co-pilot.
“Is it Watson?” asked Roy.
“Yeah,” replied the co-pilot grimly, as they lifted off.
“Any idea what happened,” asked Johnny.
“No,” replied the pilot, turning the copter to head southward. “We know he was headed here and we know his last radioed position, we’ll just have to backtrack.” He had to raise his voice to be heard, even through the headphones.
“Who..is..his co-pilot?” asked Johnny. He had almost said ‘was’.
“Jack Townsend, usually, but he went home sick. His replacement hadn’t arrived yet when Don got the call to meet you guys,” replied the pilot.
“Here,” interrupted the co-pilot, handing back two pairs of binoculars.
Johnny and Roy took the binoculars and looked out the windows, trying to spot the downed copter. Suddenly there was a flash of light and a clap of thunder. The helicopter bucked a few times, then steadied. Johnny managed to unclinch his fingers from the seat.
“What was that?” he asked the pilots, after they regained control.
“Lightening strike, downdraft, take your pick,” replied the pilot grimly.
“There!” yelled Roy, tapping the co-pilot on the shoulder and pointing to the downed copter.
Another flash of lightening and the answering boom of thunder made Johnny and Roy both jump.
“Can you see Don?” asked the pilot, as he circled the wreck.
“No. Can’t see much of anything,” said Roy. “Can you put us down?”
“Not here, but pretty close, maybe a half mile North,” replied the pilot, turning the craft in that direction and radioing LA.
The chopper landed on a fire break. The crew grabbed equipment and started their hike toward the wreck. About 300 yards out, they began to see bits and pieces of rotor blade and torn branches. Once they got closer, Roy could see the copter had a large black streak down its side.
“Lightening,” said the co-pilot, noticing the markings on the copter at the same time.
“DON?” yelled the pilot, as they approached the wreck. The helicopter was lying mostly on its side with the skids facing them.
“About…damn…time,” came a muffled voice, from what was left of the helicopter.
The crew circled around wreckage until they could see the downed pilot, most of him was trapped in a maze of metal and tree limbs, hidden from view. His left arm was free though, and he was using it to hold a jagged piece of wreckage away from his face.
“Good God, Don,” said the pilot, lost for words. He overcame his shock and hid his emotion, saying, “Look what you did to your machine!”
“How bad?” asked the trapped man.
“Toast, complete and utter toast,” replied the pilot, shaking his head sadly. He found footing in the wreckage and reached out to help Roy and Johnny navigate through the debris.
“Hey, Watson, remember me?” asked Roy, as he took his place beside the trapped pilot and settled his equipment within reach.
“DeSoto right? Excuse me…if I don’t shake hands,” replied Watson, his free hand was still holding a jagged piece of the helicopter’s windshield.
“I’ll overlook it this once,” joked Roy. He leaned over Watson to shield him from the glass and gave a gentle tug on the windshield. It came free in mostly one piece. He carefully threw it aside. Meanwhile, Johnny was working on the pilot’s other side, trying to untangle tree limbs and wreckage so he could assess Watson’s injuries.
“Where do you hurt?” asked Roy, taking out a b.p. cuff.
“My chest…mostly,” replied Watson.
Roy nodded, he could tell the pilot was having trouble breathing.
“How about your back or your neck,” asked Roy, inflating the cuff. When Watson shook his head, Roy continued, “Think you can move your legs?”
“I’m wedged in…pretty tight,” replied the pilot.
“Alright, hang in there,” said Roy as he finished taking vital signs. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and threaded his way over to the biophone.
Meanwhile Johnny continued his game of pick-up-sticks with the wreckage. He grabbed a tree limb that was wedged between the copter and the pilot and gave an experiment tug. Watson let out a yell of pain.
“Sorry,” said Johnny, and was surprised by Watson’s strong grip on his arm.
“I know four ways to kill a man with my pinky alone, GAGE” he hissed painfully, “Don’t do that again.”
Johnny smiled at the apparent jest. The smile quickly turned a queasy green when Watson held his eyes and didn’t so much as blink.
“I’ll try to be more careful,” said Johnny, swallowing hard.
“You do that,” said Watson, releasing Johnny’s arm.
Johnny stayed where he was for a moment, then said, “I’ll be right back.” He rose and made his way over to Roy.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to get him out by ourselves, Roy,” said Johnny, absently rubbing the sore spot on his arm where Watson had grabbed him. “That chopper is pinning him down.”
“Brackett's pretty sure he’s got internal injuries,” replied Roy, preparing an IV bag. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you think about using the other helicopter to lift it off him?” asked Johnny.
Roy looked at him a minute, absorbing the suggestion. He called over the pilot of their helicopter, who had been sitting with Watson. When he joined them, Roy said, “Johnny thinks the only way we’re going to get him out is if we lift up the wreckage.”
“You mean with the chopper right?” asked the pilot. He thought about it a minute. “It’d be awfully risky,” he temporized.
“You wouldn’t have to lift it completely off the ground,” said Johnny. “Just lift that end a few feet to give us enough clearance.”
“There’s no other way?” asked the pilot.
“He’s completely pinned. He may be as strong as an ox, but he’s bleeding internally. He’ll go into shock soon, and when he does, he’ll die. We need to get him to a hospital,” said Roy.
“Okay,” he said, motioning to his co-pilot, “We’ll do it.”
As the co-pilot approached, Roy said, “It has to be just you. Once the pressure of the wreckage is off, he’ll go down hill fast. We’ll need an extra hand to get him and the equipment back to the firebreak. We can’t wait for you two to hike back here to help us.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you?” mused the pilot. “Alright then, if it’s his only chance, then I guess we don’t have a choice. Mark," he said, addressing his co-pilot, "you stay here, I’m bringing the chopper back to see if we can use it to lift some of this wreckage.”
“Ahhh….that’s not such a good idea,” began the co-pilot, worriedly.
“I know, but there’s no other option,” replied the pilot, taking one of the handy-talkies Roy offered him. “I’ll radio LA…just in case,” he said and began the hike back toward the chopper.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” said Johnny, looking at co-pilot for reassurance. All he got was shrug before Mark returned to the wreckage.
They told Watson their intention. He argued against it vehemently.
“Who’s stupid-ass idea was this anyway?” asked Watson.
Johnny took an involuntarily step back of Watson’s reach. The movement caught the pilot’s eye. “You? You came up with this dumbshit plan? I should have known. You are going to get us all killed! I won’t let you do it!”
Johnny was angry now. “You’re not Superman you know. You’re going to die if we don’t get you to a hospital soon. You might die anyway. We're trying to help you whether you appreciate it or not and I’ve got news for you -- you’re not in control here. It’s not up to you. It’s up to us.”
“And when someone gets killed because of this foolish stunt?”
“You’ll be dead so it won’t be your concern.” said Johnny, sharply.
“John,” said Roy, in a warning tone.
Johnny snapped his mouth shut and waited for the chopper.
A few minutes later they heard it approach. The pilot hovered overhead, a cable already dangled from the chopper.
“I’m telling you, this is not going to work,” insisted Watson.
Johnny ignored him and proceeded to tie off the cable to one end of the wrecked chopper. He gave the Roy a thumbs up and put his hand between Watson and the wreckage so that he could feel when the weight had been lifted off enough. The chopper carefully and slowly began to lift that end of the wreckage. It had risen a few feet when Watson suddenly let out a scream.
“Hold it!” yelled Roy into the handy-talkie. “What happened?” he asked Johnny.
“Feels…like my leg…is being torn off,” said Watson through gritted teeth. He was pale and sweating profusely.
“Hang on a sec,” yelled Johnny to Roy. “His leg’s tangled up but I think I can free it.” He started to crawl under the suspended wreckage when he felt Watson’s hand grasp his arm again, not as strongly this time.
“Don’t,” was all Watson could manage through gritted teeth.
“Let go,” said Johnny, quietly. “I’ve got to free your leg.” He tried to pull away, but Watson held onto him doggedly.
“Don’t,” he said again. If the cable slips…”
“Don’t worry,” said Johnny, pulling the man’s hand away. “You can hold it up. You’re Superman, remember?” he joked, as he ducked under the wreckage.
Every creak and groan made Johnny cringe. He expected the cable to snap and to be squashed by the wreckage any second. It seemed like an eternity before he ducked back out from under the twisted metal.
“Okay, Roy,” he called.
Roy radioed the chopper pilot to continue. Eight inches more and Watson was free. They quickly carried him away from the wreckage, just barely sliding out of the way before the cable snapped and the heap of sharp scrap metal crashed to the ground. There were a few tense moments while the pilot tried to maintain control after the sudden weight change, but the craft steadied and turned to fly back to the firebreak.
Roy had been right, the minute the pressure was off, Watson passed out and his vitals became unstable. They did the best they could for him on the hike back to the chopper, but his blood pressure continued to drop and he became increasingly shocky. He needed a hospital.
They loaded him into the chopper as fast as possible. Johnny took a new set of vitals while Roy hooked him up to the portable EKG unit. They had only been in the air a minute when Roy exclaimed, “V-fib!” He charged the paddles as Johnny started CPR.
Roy placed the paddles in position and applied a shock. They waited for a few tense seconds before Roy announced ‘no conversion’ and set the charge higher.
“Come on, damn it,” said Johnny, continuing CPR. He moved back as Roy applied another shock.
“No change,” said Roy, recharging the paddles.
“Come on, Superman!” said Johnny, resuming CPR.
“Clear,” said Roy as he applied another shock. The EKG line spiked sharply, then became a normal sinus rhythm.
***
“What are Chet and Johnny up to?” asked Stanley, walking into the breakroom and helping himself to a cup of coffee.
“What do you mean?” asked Roy, on the alert. If Chet and Johnny got together to do something, trouble was sure to follow close behind.
“THEY’RE NOT…” started Marco, spinning around and giving a panic-stricken glance toward the TV. He gave a relieved sigh when he saw it was still in its proper place.
“They’re spray-painting a rock,” said Mike, matter-of-factly, watching them out the window.
“They’re doing what?” asked Roy.
***
“What room is Don Watson in?” Johnny asked Dixie, grinning.
“412,” replied Dixie. “You going to visit him? I thought you two didn’t get along.”
“Oh we get along just fine,” said Johnny, heading toward the elevator.
“Yeah, right” replied Roy, sarcastically. He caught up with Johnny before the elevator doors closed.
They got off on the second floor and turned toward Watson’s room.
“Hold it Johnny,” said Roy, grabbing his partner’s arm, “Just what exactly do you have in mind?”
“Me?” asked Johnny, innocently.
Roy could see the devilment in his partner’s eyes. “I think I’ll just wait out here in the hall for you then,” said Roy. He knew when Johnny was in that kind of mood, it was impossible to talk sense into him. “You do realize that, eventually, he’ll be well enough to fly again, right?”
“Yeah?”
“And that we might have to fly with him?”
“Don’t worry,” said Johnny, in the tone that always made Roy worry. He pushed open the door to Watson’s room.
Watson looked up from a flight magazine as Johnny entered.
“How ya feelin’?” asked Johnny, jauntily. He approached the bed but made a point to stand out of arm’s reach.
Watson stared at him a long moment, but Johnny’s grin remained firmly in place. “Fine,” he finally said. “Dixie tells me you saved my life.”
“I guess you could say that,” said Johnny, pleased that he had the upper hand.
“Well then, thank you for saving my life,” said Watson, without inflection.
“You’re welcome,” said Johnny cheerfully, still grinning.
“I still think it was a dumbshit plan though,” said Watson.
“You’re entitled to your opinion,” said Johnny, nodding his head in agreement, “But it did work.”
Watson grunted and returned to reading his magazine. He looked up again when he realized Johnny hadn’t made a move to leave. “Was there something else?”
“No, no, I’ll leave you to your beauty rest,” said Johnny. “Oh, hey,” he said, stopping in the doorway and turning toward Watson, “I almost forgot. They found out what caused the crash.” He tossed an object to Watson, who managed to catch it one-handed.
The pilot looked at the green-painted rock. “What is it?” he asked Johnny, puzzled.
“Kryptonite,” replied Johnny, ducking out the door before Watson had any thoughts about returning the joke – in fast-ball fashion.
In the hallway, Johnny gave Roy a shit-eating grin before turning, whistling his way down the hallway toward the squad.