Blaze of Glory
By Karen Hobbs
"Man, what a day!" John exclaimed as they drove back to the Station after another call.
"Yeah, I don’t think we’ve stopped since we got on shift this morning." Roy agreed.
"Did we do lunch?" John asked. He rubbed his stomach, "I don’t think we did." He said, mournfully.
"Sure we did, you had a scrap with Chet over the salt again," Roy replied
"Oh yeah, I remember," John said, grimly. "Kelly is gonna pay for that one, just you wait and see."
"Uh-oh!" Roy suddenly exclaimed.
"What?" John asked.
"Gas is right on red, I doubt we can make it to HQ to refill" Roy said, "Come to think of it, didn’t I ask you to fill her up at Rampart" he asked sharply.
"Did you?" Johnny asked innocently. He had opened the glove compartment and was searching through the accumulated debris contained within.
"Yuk!" he exclaimed, as he found a half-chewed piece of gum wrapped in a tissue, "I’m gonna kill Dickson!"
"John, I distinctly remember asking you to fill the squad, you were talking to that nurse," Roy said, sternly.
"Sherene," Johnny supplied, a wistful look coming over his face at the memory, "25, single, blond, blue eyes…"
"There you go again, conquest amnesia" Roy commented.
"Huh?" Johnny swung back into the present.
"The kind of amnesia that you get when there’s a new female on the block," Roy said patiently, "Now quit messing about in there and call LA for a tow truck."
"I’m not calling." Johnny replied, petulantly.
"What is it with you today?" Roy asked, a hint of anger in his voice" Do I have to do everything around here?"
"I don’t need to," Johnny replied, smugly, "I’ve got this," he triumphantly held up a credit card, "A Departmental Fuel Card, accepted at all major filling stations."
"Great, now all we have to do is find one before our gas runs out," Roy commented.
"Hang a next right, there’s one about a block down on Willard and Merchison." Johnny replied.
"How the hell do you know that?" Roy asked, incredulously.
"They’ve got a cute blond cashier, name of Renai, or was it Rita?" Johnny mused, "Come to think of it, I’m sure it was Roxanne, it’s been a while though, I wonder if she remembers me…"
"Gage, you amaze me," Roy said, as he pulled onto Merchison.
"I know Roy," Johnny replied with a grin, "Sometimes I amaze even myself."
Roy turned the Squad onto the filling station forecourt and eased behind the other car that was parked at the pumps.
"Great, I could do with a soft drink." John said, as Roy turned off the ignition.
"You fill her up, I’ll pay," Roy said, tossing Johnny the keys and grabbing the credit card from the dash.
"Why do I get all the dirty jobs?" John protested.
"Because you will spend all your time chatting with Roxanne or whatever her name is and then I’ll have to come in and remind you to pay." Roy replied.
"Ah, point taken." John said as he unlocked the fuel cap.
Roy walked into the shop with the Dept Fuel Card in his hand. He was mulling over the day’s events in his mind. He glanced at his watch, if they didn’t get any more callouts, he and Johnny should just about complete all the run reports by lights out. He sure hoped the guys had left them some supper. He walked up to the counter and placed the card in front of the cashier. The cashier was a middle-aged man; Roy couldn’t wait to see the look of disappointment on Johnny’s face when he walked in the door. "Pump 2," he said.
The cashier just looked at him blankly.
"I’m kinda in a hurry," Roy continued.
"You’ll just have to learn to slow down then pal," a rough voice said from behind him. Roy spun round to be confronted by a tall, dark haired man toting a shotgun. He gulped. "Get over there," the men motioned to where his partner, a lanky young man with shoulder length greasy hair was standing with his gun pointing at the shops only other customer, a young woman. Roy did as he was told.
"You," the man’s attention switched back to the cashier, "Keep filling that bag and then open the safe."
"We-we don’t have a safe," the man stammered.
"What!" the gunman cried, he turned to his partner, "Jo-Jo you told me they had a safe!"
"They did, Karl, I’m sure they did!" Jo-Jo exclaimed.
Karl went around the back of the counter, his gun trained all the while on the cashier. "Well, there ain’t one here now," he commented.
The cashier finished putting the takings into the bag and held it out to the gunman.
"Get over there with the rest," Karl said. "Come on let’s get out of here."
Jo-Jo moved towards the door. Suddenly he pointed his gun out of the door and a shot rang out.
"I got him, I got him damn cop!" he cried.
Karl risked a glance outside. "You nerd, that ain’t no cop!" he said, disgustedly.
"He’s got a uniform" Jo-Jo countered.
"Does a cop drive a fire truck?" Karl asked
"Nope."
"So, dummy, you shot a fireman. Great!"
"Yeah, well it’s one less goddamn uniform," Jo-Jo responded with a shrug.
Anger started to well up inside of Roy; they had shot his partner in cold blood!
He took a deep breath to control the urge to lunge at the gunman. He had Joanne and the children to think about. But Johnny… he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.
If only I had made sure they had filled up at Rampart…If only they had taken a different route back to the Station…If only I had let Johnny pay for the gas… Then you would be lying there on the forecourt, a sobering voice replied, and what good would that be to Joanne and the kids?
A sense of desolation came over Roy. He and Johnny had always accepted that some day, through some tragic event like a fire or a fall, that one of them might get killed. It was a hazard of the job, fire-fighting was not for the fainthearted. But not now and not like this, he shook his head – not Johnny.
###
Johnny had finished putting in the gas, locked the filler cap and had begun to saunter across the forecourt to the shop. The next thing he knew there was a shot and his right side had exploded in pain. He hit the ground hard and lay still. He could feel the wetness of his own blood on his shirt and glancing downwards he could see a small red pool starting to gather on the concrete.
After what seemed like an age, he gingerly raised his head. Whoever had shot him had turned their attention elsewhere. He looked towards the shop, through the windows he could see a man carrying a gun motioning to those inside. Apart from Roy and the cashier, John could make out one, perhaps two other people. He wasn’t sure if there was only one gunman or if he had an accomplice. What Johnny did know was that he had to get help and fast. There was no way he was going to let Roy or anyone else become the victim of a bungled robbery attempt.
"Man I gotta get out of here," he muttered.
Slowly he eased himself backwards, heading for the comparative safety of the squad. Not wanting to risk another shot from the shop by standing, he crawled under the squad until he was safely on the far side, only then did he ease himself into a sitting position. He started to assess his injury.
"Damn!" he exclaimed as he saw the bullet wound. By gently probing he ascertained that there was an exit wound. At least he didn’t have a bullet inside him.
Gotta get help for the others, he thought. Reaching up he opened the passenger door of the cab and reached across the seat for the mic.
"LA, this is Squad 51, come in please" he said.
"Squad 51, this is LA." John cringed at the loudness of the response.
"LA, we have an armed hold up. Gas Station on Willard, cross is Merchesion. Hostages have been taken. I have a Code-I at this location. Request ambulance and police assistance, silent approach."
"10-4, 51" came the response.
John replaced the mic in its holder and sat back against the step. He was beginning to feel light headed and knew that he had to stop his bleeding as best he could as there was no telling how long it would be until he could receive medical help.
He stumbled back along the side of the squad until he reached the locker where the drug box and bandages were stored. He quickly unlocked the compartment and hauled out the relevant storage box. Selecting the largest gauze pad and a roll of bandage he proceeded to wrap the dressing around his midriff as tight as he could, hoping that the direct pressure would slow the loss of blood from his wound.
###
"Come on Karl, let’s go." Jo-Jo said, hopping from foot to foot.
"Go? Go where?" Karl asked.
"Let’s split, we’ve got the money, let’s run."
"After your little performance we’d get 400 yards at most," Karl reasoned, "Every cop in the district will be looking for us and I bet they’ll shoot first and ask questions later."
"So what do we do?" Jo-Jo asked.
"We wait," Karl said, leaning back against the counter, "As long as we’ve got these people here, the cops won’t move in. They can see you’ve already killed one…" Karl stopped short, he was staring out of the window in disbelief. "He’s gone, the son-of-a-bitch ain’t there!" he exclaimed.
Roy’s head jerked round; sure enough all that remained where Johnny had been lying was a pool of blood.
"He’s got away" Jo-Jo cried, "Damn it!"
"He won’t have got far," Karl replied, matter-of-factly, "Anyway, better for you that he lives," he added.
"For both of us," Jo-Jo reminded him, "We’re in this together. Remember that Karl-baby, together till the end," he waved his shotgun at his partner "Right?"
Karl shrugged, "Yeah, whatever you say, kid," he replied.
Suddenly through the silence that followed, a baby’s cry could be heard.
"What the hell is that?" Jo-Jo asked.
"Kirsty!" the woman cried and then held her hands up to her mouth, realizing that she had unwittingly give the gunmen an extra hostage to play with.
"I’ll go," Karl said, "You stay here, and if any of them move…"
"I know what to do," Jo-Jo replied, taking a firmer hold on the shotgun
"No don’t, she’s just a child!" the woman cried lunging forward. Roy managed to grab her and hold her tightly in his arms.
"Don’t worry ma’am, everything will be fine. You’ll see." he assured her. The frightened look on the woman’s face showed him that she wasn’t convinced.
"I like babies," Jo-Jo mused out loud, "Couldn’t eat a whole one though!" he laughed.
# # #
John raised his head from where he was sitting, slumped against the side of the squad as the wail of a baby’s cry cut through the silence of the deserted gas station forecourt. He blinked, trying to get the world into focus. He looked at the car which was parked in front of the Squad and noticed the ‘Baby on Board’ sticker in the rear window.
"Poor kid," John thought, as the wailing continued. He then had a worrying thought, if the gunman inside the shop was crazy enough to shoot him for just walking across the forecourt, what would he do to a noisy child? He had to stop the baby from crying and fast.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he made his way over to the car. The baby was strapped into a car seat in the front of the car. John opened the door, reached in and unbuckled the restraint. He lifted the baby girl clear of the seat and held her close.
"Hey, sweetheart it’s gonna be okay," he whispered, "I hope your mama has left you a bottle honey," he added. He spied the changing bag in the footwell of the car. Searching one-handed, he managed to locate a bottle.
"Now if I can just figure out how to get this thing set up," he muttered as he struggled to juggle the bawling infant and the sealed bottle.
"Here let me," a voice came from above him.
"Thanks," John said. He looked up, straight into the muzzle of a shotgun. He gulped.
"I see my partner only winged ya," the gunman commented. "Get up, you’re going to join the party."
John struggled to his feet holding the baby and the bottle tight.
"Move it!" the gunman prodded him in the back with the gun and John stumbled over to the shop.
Relief washed over Roy as he saw Johnny walk across the forecourt of the filling station, the baby in his arms. His relief was tinged with concern as he saw the extent of the red stain on Johnny’s shirt, his partner’s blood loss must have been considerable. By the way that Johnny was walking, he could tell that Johnny was probably on the verge of going into shock. Roy hoped fervently that the gunmen would let him treat Johnny, maybe even let him be transported to hospital for treatment. He didn’t want to have to watch his friend die in his arms.
"Kirsty!" the mother of the baby cried as Johnny and the gunman Karl entered the shop.
"I think she’s kinda hungry ma’am," Johnny said. The mother took the child and bottle. Johnny collapsed onto the floor.
"Get up!" the gunman growled, kicking Johnny roughly in the side.
"Stop it, can’t you see he’s unconscious!" Roy cried.
"What do you know?" the gunman sneered.
"I’m a paramedic" Roy replied.
"A para what?"
"I’m medically trained," Roy explained, moving slowly over to where John lay. He knelt down beside John’s motionless form and lifted his partners blood soaked shirt to assess his injuries.
"He needs medical help and fast" he commented.
"Then give it to him medic," the gunman growled.
"I – I need some gear from the squad" Roy stammered.
"Jo-Jo take him outside to get what he needs"
"You gonna let him walk outta here!" Jo-Jo protested.
"No, you are going to keep an eye on him. Shoot him if he tries anything funny"
"But why Karl?" Jo-Jo whined.
"Because" Karl growled, grabbing Jo-Jo’s shirt and pointing at John, "If he dies, we are facing a murder rap and I ain’t going down because you can’t control your trigger finger. Now get."
"Okay, okay" Jo-Jo said, straightening his shirt, "Come on, get going" he said to Roy motioning with his gun to the door.
Johnny was starting to come round, when Roy returned with the equipment from the Squad.
"Keep still pal," Roy advised as he started to take vital signs
"What ya doin’?" Jo-Jo asked.
"I’m taking his vital signs," Roy replied, calmly.
"What are they?"
Roy sighed, it was hard enough doing this job without some demented, gun-toting moron asking you a 1001 questions.
"Blood pressure, pulse, respiration, they tell me how ill he is."
"Don’t look too good from here!" Jo-Jo grinned,
Roy’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to deck the cocky youth.
"Jo-J, keep outta it," Karl said.
Roy undid the catches on the biophone.
"Whoa!" Karl ordered, sticking the gun under Roy’s nose,"What’s that thing for?"
"It’s a biophone" Roy replied, "I need to contact the hospital."
"You’re not talking to anyone!" Karl yelled, kicking the biophone away.
"I need to contact a doctor so that I can treat him" Roy said patiently, "If I don’t, he will die," he added.
"Okay, but no funny stuff or she gets it." The gunman pointed his gun at the young mother.
Roy set up the antennae on the biophone and picked up the receiver. "Rampart this is Squad 51, come in please," he said, "Rampart, this is Squad 51"
"51, this is Rampart -- go ahead," Dixie McCall’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
Roy began to relay Johnny’s vital signs.
"10-4, 51" Doctor Brackett came on the line "Establish an IV with D5W TKO, pressure bandage and transport immediately."
"10-4 Rampart, IV with D5W, negative on the transport," Roy replied
"51 say again." Dr Brackett’s voice took on a stern tone.
"Negative on the transport, we’re being held…" Roy managed to say before the receiver was torn from his hand by Karl.
"You heard him, he ain’t going anywhere mister."
There was a minute of silence at the other end of the line, and then Dr Brackett’s voice came through. "I don’t know who you are," he said, "But if that patient does not get to hospital soon, he will die from shock and blood loss."
"Then let him meet his maker," Karl growled, throwing the receiver at Roy.
"But Karl, you said you weren’t going down for murder," Jo-Jo protested.
"I ain’t, but you are. You pulled the trigger." Karl replied.
Roy busied himself readying the IV. Once he had inserted the needle into John’s arm, he retook John vital signs.
"Cool, look at all this stuff!" Jo-Jo remarked, looking at the drug box. He picked up a bottle. He read the label slowly. "What does this do?"
"It’s an anticoagulant," Roy replied.
Jo-Jo picked up another bottle. "Morphine – I know what this is!" he said, triumphantly. "Wow, this stuff could be worth a fortune on the street!"
"Just leave it alone would you?" Roy said testily, snatching the vial from Jo-Jo's hand.
"Gimme" Jo-Jo said, grabbing Roy by the arm and throwing him backward against the counter. The vial dropped from Roy’s hand and smashed on the floor. Jo-Jo’s hands closed around Roy’s throat.
"Jo-Jo, leave him!" Karl commanded.
Jo-Jo glared at Roy, tightened his grip momentarily and then let go in disgust. "I’m hungry," he commented, like a petulant child.
"Get yourself something to eat then," Karl said, motioning to this ready food bar. "You, fix him something," he ordered the cashier.
"Yessir," the cashier replied and scrambled to comply.
Roy walked back to where John lay, rubbing his neck ruefully. John’s eyes flickered and opened as Roy took hold of his wrist to take his pulse. "Hiya partner how ya doing?" Roy asked.
"Been better," John mumbled. He licked his dry lips "Man it hurts," he added.
"Sorry, Jo-Jo smashed the MS" Roy said, "I’ll get on the horn to Rampart and see what else I can give you."
John smiled weakly through the pain. Roy picked up the biophone.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51, IV has been established. Be advised patient is in extreme pain."
"Squad 51, administer 5mg MS IV," Doctor Brackett replied.
"Negative Rampart, we have no MS," Roy replied.
There was a pause and then Doctor Brackett prescribed an alternative painkiller.
Roy located the correct vial in the drug box and injected the drug into the IV line.
John stirred.
"Roy," he whispered
"Yeah Johnny," Roy leant close.
"Roy if I don’t make it, tell Chet…the Phantom won."
Roy shook his head "You’ll make it Junior and you know that the Phantom will never win"
John smiled "Yeah I know that, pity Kelly doesn’t."
# # #
Jo-Jo reappeared, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Come on Karl baby, let’s get this show on the road!" he cried.
Karl looked at him in disbelief. "What d’you have in mind jerk?" he asked "The cops have got this place surrounded, there’s no way out."
Jo-Jo reached into his pocket and brought out a hand grenade.
"I ain’t gonna let any damn cop get me. I’m going out in a blaze of glory!"
"Don’t be a fool" Karl reasoned.
"Who you calling a fool!" Jo-Jo screamed "Don’t you ever call me that!" and with that he hit Karl around the head with the butt of his shotgun. Karl fell to the floor, blood streaming from a gash on his temple.
"Anyone else care to try?" Jo-Jo sneered.
"Karl’s right, there’s no way out," John’s raspy voice cut through the ensuing silence. Jo-Jo brought the shotgun to bear on the prone paramedic. "Go ahead -- finish the job off," John said, defiantly
Jo-Jo looked at him as if weighing up his options. "Nah, waste of a bullet, you’re dead meat anyway," Jo-Jo replied.
He turned his attention back to the forecourt, police marksmen could be seen moving into position. "Yeah, come on bring them all on!" Jo-Jo yelled, "I feel lucky, do you?" and with that he pulled the pin on the hand grenade, opened the door, hurled it across the forecourt and then followed it out, a stream of bullets issuing from his firearm. There was a strange silence and then an almighty whoomp as the gasoline ignited.
Within seconds the forecourt was a blazing inferno.
Roy looked on in horror as the gunman was enveloped by the flames and made into a human torch. He looked away, unable to witness the man’s final moments. "Is there a back way out of here?" he asked the shocked cashier.
"Er, yeah, over here," the man said, still trying to come to terms with what he had just seen.
"Get out quick then. This whole thing could blow sky high any minute," Roy ordered. He crossed over to Johnny’s side. "Come on Junior, we’re getting outta here. Think you can stand?"
"Ah, I’ll try," John replied hesitantly, as Roy hauled him to his feet and half carried him to the door.
They emerged into swirling smoke, which stung their eyes and made breathing difficult. Above the noise of the flames they could hear the wail of sirens which heralded the arrival of the first of the fire appliances that had been called to the scene.
A police officer emerged from the acrid smoke. "Here, get him to an ambulance fast!" Roy said, putting John’s arms around the police officer’s shoulder.
"Roy, where are you going?" Johnny asked.
"I’ll be back," Roy said, calmly. He turned around and plunged back into the now burning shop.
"Roy!!" Johnny screamed.
###
Roy re-entered the shop which was full of acrid smoke. He dropped to his knees seeking the clearer area under the smoke layer. Navigating by touch more then anything else, he made his way towards the front of the building.
Overhead flames were starting to dance along the ceiling as sparks from the inferno raging on the forecourt ignited the roof timbers. Over the roar of the flames, Roy could hear the sizzle of water from the firehouses as it hit the windows of the shop and evaporated in the intense heat.
Choking on the smoke, Roy managed to located the prone figure of the second gunman – Karl. He was just starting to come round from the blow that his colleague had given him earlier.
"Where am I?" he asked, clearly disorientated from his head injury.
"No time, let’s get out" Roy gasped, hauling the man to his fee.
"Jo-Jo?" Karl asked.
"Dead," Roy said, flatly, "Come on!" he ordered.
The two men stumbled back across the shop, dodging the falling roof tiles. Suddenly the front windows shattered, unable to withstand the tremendous heat from the fire any longer.
"Down!" Roy shouted, pulling Karl to the floor as glass fragments imploded through the shop. Roy covered his head with his arms to protect his face from the sharp shards of glass.
Once Roy had determined that it was safe to continue, he got to his feet. His arms stung from where they had been cut by flying glass. He turned to where Karl was still laying. "Let’s go" he said.
"I can’t…my leg." Karl gasped. Roy could see that a large piece of glass was imbedded in the gunman’s leg.
"I’ll carry you out," Roy said and hoisted Karl across his shoulders and made his made back out of the shop.
They made it outside and Roy carried Karl over to the waiting ambulance. "Laceration to upper right leg" he said to the paramedics waiting, "There’s still a glass fragment in there."
"Okay, I’ll take it from here," one of the paramedics said, "My partner will check you out."
As Roy made to walk away, Karl reached out and stopped him.
"Why did you do that?" he asked Roy, "Rescue me?"
"Because it’s my job" Roy replied.
###
Roy stifled a cough as he opened the door to Johnny’s hospital room. It was late and he was surprised to see Head Nurse Dixie McCall sitting beside John’s bed.
"Dix," he said, gruffly, his voice hoarse from the smoke he had inhaled earlier that day.
"Roy, you should be in bed," Dixie admonished.
"I wanted to find out how Johnny was," Roy explained.
"You could have asked," Dixie replied.
Roy shrugged and gave her an apologetic grin, "It’s not the same as seeing with your own eyes," he replied.
"No, I guess not," Dixie agreed.
"So how is he?" Roy asked, taking a seat opposite Dixie.
"Pretty good, considering. He came through surgery well and should be coming round soon. He’s lost a lot of blood, which will take some time to recover from. But you know Johnny, he’ll probably be chasing the nurses around by tomorrow."
"Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be glad to get rid of him by then." Roy laughed.
"All he needs now is rest and time." Dixie said, she glanced at her watch, "And speaking of time, I’d better get back or Joe will be sending out a search party!"
"Mind if I stay?" Roy asked.
"Ten minutes, no more," Dixie said, sternly "You need your rest too, Roy."
"Sure thing, Dix."
Roy sat back and regarded his sleeping partner. Johnny looked so pale against the stark whiteness of the bed linen.
"She’ll time you pal," Johnny’s voice croaked through the quietness.
"You were awake!" Roy exclaimed.
"Kinda," John replied, opening his eyes, "You tend to find out how things really are when everyone thinks you’re out of it."
"So, how do you feel?" Roy asked.
"Like I’ve been through a grinder." John admitted.
The two friends maintained a companionable silence for a few minutes, then Johnny suddenly said in a small voice.
"Why did you leave me Roy?"
"Leave you?" Roy asked, confused.
"At the gas station. We got out and then you left me."
"I had to get someone else out."
"Who?" Johnny asked, frowning.
"Karl" Roy replied.
"The gunman!" John exclaimed "Man! You left me because of him, he was gonna kill us!"
"He was a victim the same as you," Roy replied, calmly.
"A victim of his own greed!" John spat out angrily.
"Would you have preferred it if I’d left him to burn to death?" Roy asked. "It’s not our place to judge people by what they’ve done. If they’re in trouble we have to save them." he continued.
John regarded his partner for a moment and then took a deep breath to control the mixture of emotions inside of him.
"Yeah, You’re right. I guess I was being a bit selfish," John admitted.
"Oh, Captain Stanley said not to worry about the Squad, the Department isn’t holding you responsible."
"Responsible? For what?" Johnny asked.
"For the Squad going up in flames along with the gas station." Roy replied.
"Hey man, the Squad is your responsibility, you were driving, remember?"
"Yes, but you had the keys." Roy countered.
Johnny looked at him open-mouthed. He had got into enough trouble when the biophone had been trashed and now the Squad. He could just imagine the ribbing he would be getting from other crews, not to mention Chet Kelly!
"It wasn’t my fault!" he exclaimed. He stared at Roy through narrowed eyes. "White man talk with fork tongue." he remarked.
Roy grinned, "I thought that would get you going" he laughed.
"Man, and I almost believed you!" Johnny said, shaking his head. "Have you been taking lessons from Chet?"
"I’d better be going, pal," Roy said, "I don’t want to fall foul of our delectable Head Nurse."
"That would be most unwise." Johnny agreed.
"Oh, by the way, I almost forgot." Roy said, reaching into the pocket of his robe, "I brought you this."
He placed a can of Coca-Cola on the bedside table, "Hope it’s the right sort," he said.
"After what we’ve been through partner. I for one, ain’t complaining." John said with a grin.
"That’ll make a change," Roy commented, as he made for the relative safety of the door.
"Just you wait Roy!" John snarled at the paramedics retreating back, "I’ll get you for that, just you wait!"
"Anytime, Junior," came Roy’s muffled response from the other side of the door.
Johnny lay back on the pillows and grinned to himself, he was so lucky to have a partner like Roy DeSoto. He could have ended up with Brice. Johnny inwardly shuddered at that thought and settled down to sleep.
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