Roy turned on the engine of the replacement squad. He revved it up, making a monstrous sound.
"Roy, do you have to make so much noise in here?" Johnny asked angrily.
"I was listening to the new squad that they delivered to the station this morning. Doesn't she sound great?" replied Roy.
"Yeah but…." The tones sounded.
"Squad 51, Child down, 2702 Esperanza, 2-7-0-2 Esperanza, Cross Street 125th, ambulance is responding, time out, 08:24."
"Squad 51, KMG 365," acknowledged Stanley. The squad pulled out of the station and into early morning traffic.
"Vrooom.... vrooom....vrooom... Look at this Johnny she even reaches 120 miles an hour."
"Roy!" Johnny screamed, "Roy, we're never going to make this corner!" The replacement squad soared through the guardrail, sailing into thin air before landing with a loud crash, then rolling repeatedly.
"Roy!" Johnny yelled shaking his partner roughly by the shoulders. "Roy, wake-up!" Roy's arms flailed in an attempt to keep from going through the windshield, striking something solid with his fist. Slowly opening his eyes, he groggily pushed himself to his elbows, examining the knuckles on his right hand. Looking around, he saw three very anxious faces staring back at him.
"What's going on?" He asked, sleepily rubbing his eyes.
"What's going on?" Chet bellowed. "It's 2 AM and we've got the Indy 500 racing through the dorm!" Hearing a groan, he looked at Johnny's bunk to find him doubled over, his hands covering his face.
"That must have been some dream you were having Roy, you decked John." Captain Stanley said, attempting to remove Johnny's hands long enough to assess the damage. Roy got up from his bunk to check on his partner.
"Hey, John, man I'm really sorry. Let me take a look." He slowly pulled the injured paramedic's hands away from his face. Marco gasped, and Mike let out a low whistle upon seeing Johnny's eye. It was already beginning to swell shut.
"Hey, Gage, that's some shiner you're going to have there!" Chet exclaimed.
"Yeah, pal" added Captain Stanley, "Mike, call it in, and I'll put the squad on stand down. Roy, you better get him over to Rampart, get him checked out."
"Right Cap," Roy said, helping Johnny to his feet. "I'm so sorry Johnny. Do you feel dizzy?" Roy felt terrible.
"No, owe!" He swatted Roy's hand away from his eye. "Don't touch it. What were you dreaming about anyway?"
"You won't believe it. I'll tell you on the way to the hospital."
~*~
At Rampart general, Dr. Morton began checking Johnny's eye to see if there had been any permanent damage.
"How do you feel now, John?" asked Dr. Morton.
"Awful, Doc," replied Johnny. "Roy, you could've killed me!" growled Johnny.
"Look I said I was sorry, what more do you want me to say?" Roy asked.
"I don't want you to say anything, okay? Nothing." Johnny said. Morton patted Johnny's shoulder.
"I don't think you've broken anything. But you'll have a great shiner for the next couple of days. Roy, you can go back to the station and get some rest now." Johnny jumped down off of the exam table and headed for the door.
"Take me back to the station!" Johnny stated angrily.
"Squad 51, available," Roy stated into the HT. Roy waved at Morton as they left the room.
"Squad 51," answered the dispatcher.
Roy carefully backed the squad into the engine bay. The drive back to the station had been completed in strained silence. Johnny opened his door, but Roy's hand on his arm stopped him before he could get out.
"Look, Johnny, I really am sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you, you know that." Roy said. Johnny leaned back against the seat absent-mindedly rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"I do know that Roy," he sighed, "it was an accident, plain and simple." He began to laugh a little at the thought of Roy's dream. "Monstrous squad, 120 miles an hour, huh?"
"Yeah, it was pretty amazing actually. I think I could've made that corner if you weren't yelling at me." Roy said, snickering as he reached for the door handle. Now it was Roy's turn to be halted by a hand on his arm.
"If I weren't yelling at you! You hit me in the eye and now it's my fault because I was yelling at you?"
"Now, Johnny, that's not the way I meant that. Listen…" Roy began, but thankfully was interrupted by the tones of the Klaxons.
"Station 51, motor vehicle accident, Stephens Motor Speedway, 5320 Commerce, 5-3-2-0 Commerce, time out 04:32." Both men sighed, grabbed their helmets from the hooks behind their heads, and closed their doors.
~*~
Arriving at the speedway, the men of station 51 were greeted by Officer Vince Howard at the front gate.
"What have we got Vince?" Capt. Stanley asked leaping from the engine.
"Hey Hank," Vince said, walking toward the firefighter. "Some kids broke through the gate, thought they'd do some racing. Appears they may have been doing some drinking too. They managed to hit each other on the far turn. One of the cars flipped and the driver is trapped."
"What time?"
"About 5, 10 minutes ago, but I'm not sure. Several of the kids split, and the ones who stuck around aren't talking," Vince replied.
"Okay, thanks Vince."
"You're welcome, Hank." Hank turned to his men.
"Vince says the driver is trapped. Chet get the jaws, Mike grab the K-12, Marco you help Roy and Johnny get their equipment." Everyone nodded and moved off to their specified tasks.
The two paramedics carried their equipment over to the wrecked vehicles. Johnny bent over the young driver to assess his condition. The 17-year-old groaned and opened his eyes.
"Where am I? What happened?" he asked in a dazed state, the smell of alcohol very strong on his breath. Johnny continued to look over his patient as he reassured him,
"Be quiet and try to relax." He took out his penlight and looked into the young boy's pupils. "What's your name?"
"It's Gary," he answered with a grown. "Man, I hurt."
"I know, Gary, I'm trying to help you out. Do you know what today is?"
"Yeah, it's Friday." He turned his head away from the annoying light; "Get that thing out of my face." He swatted at it with his free hand.
"I was checking your reactions. You say it hurts, Gary, where does it hurt the worst, your legs, your back, your stomach?"
"My legs, my stomach a little, and my arm," he answered back. It dawned on him, and Johnny could hear the hysteria begin in his voice. "You've got to help me. I can't lose my legs. I'm a football player. I've got a scholarship to…" Johnny patted the panic-stricken boy on the shoulder,
"It's okay, take it easy. We're going to help you." He looked up. "Cap!" Johnny stood up to talk with his captain.
"Yeah, pal, something wrong?"
"He's really stuck. How soon 'til we get him out?"
"Chet and Mike are all set with the K-12 and the Jaws, so it shouldn't be long."
"I'm going to run over and get the back board and be right back."
"Okay." Johnny jogged over to the squad and began pulling the backboard out of the back. Suddenly, there was a body behind him, and something blunt being shoved into his ribs. A vicious whisper assailed his ear.
"This is a gun and I'm not afraid to use it, so be cool. My friend needs your help, so you're going to follow me to my car...quietly. Got it." John tried to turn but the man poked his ribs hard enough to separate them. "Don't look. Just get your bag and let's go."
"I don't have a bag." Johnny tried to delay him.
"Don't argue with me. I know you've got drugs in here to help people, get it."
"You won't get far, you know," John reasoned. "This place is crawling with cops."
"No one's looking back here at us, so let's go." The man twisted John around and pushed him forward, staying close to him.
"My equipment is in this front compartment. Let me get it." He opened the doors and pulled out the extra drug box. Johnny had no choice but to follow. Outside the parking lot, he pushed Johnny into an old van, slamming the door closed behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the van, he saw a man curled in a ball on the floor. John knelt down to check him out. Blood was slowly pumping from what looked like a gunshot wound. As John reached to take the man's pulse, he felt the van pull away into the night.
"Oh man, this is great!" Johnny muttered to himself. He carefully rolled the man over to get a look at the wound. He had a bad feeling he was in big trouble, as he instantly recognized the wound. He put his fingers to the man's neck attempting to get a carotid. "Damn, nothing!" He immediately began CPR, but judging from the wound, and the amount of blood lying around the man, he knew that he was fighting a battle that was already lost.
~*~
The victims had been freed. "Where is Gage?" Captain Stanley shouted, looking around for the dark haired paramedic. "Chet can you go check the squad?" Chet nodded and jogged over to the squad. He made a quick scan of the accident scene.
"Cap, I don't see him anywhere!" he shouted back, shrugging his shoulders.
"He went to get the backboard," yelled Cap. Chet saw the backboard lying on the pavement behind the squad but no Johnny. He walked around the squad checking the compartments, and saw that the spare drug box was missing.
"The spare box is gone, Cap," he said.
~*~
Johnny sat back in the dark van. He ran a hand through his hair. His brain began to race with panic. Why do I have the feeling that they aren't going to be very happy with me?
"What's going on back there?" demanded a deep voice from the front. Gage jumped. When did they stop? He quickly made himself go back into action over the dead man. He may as well keep up the charade as long as possible. He checked the vital signs, which weren't there anymore, and looked up.
"I'm not a doctor, you should really take him to the hospital."
"You'll do just fine," the man said. "Hospitals and Doctors ask to many questions. The only thing you need to remember is, anything that happens to him, happens to you." Johnny blanched, but kept up the act.
"I thought a black eye was bad," he muttered to himself. He startled as the van door suddenly flew open.
"Steve! Hurry up and get in here!" the voice growled.
"I got one, Joe," came the shrill answer. Roy was quickly pushed into the van, followed by a dark figure, the dim light reflecting off another gun. He weaved through the two paramedics to climb into the passenger seat. The shrill voice spoke again. "Let's get out of here!" Roy looked down at the dead man and the color drained from his face.
"What are we going to do now?" he whispered to his friend, as the van sped off.
~*~
Chet gasped as he saw Roy pushed inside the dirty van by the scruffy looking stranger. When he had gone to the squad to look for the errant Johnny, he noticed the senior paramedic being forced into a suspicious vehicle. Without thinking, he jumped into the driver's seat of the squad, and roared off into the night, following the van.
~*~
The van sped down the road, zigzagging in, and out of the busy traffic. Johnny fell off balance and rolled onto the corpse. Quickly, he righted himself, practically flying off of the dead body. Roy reached out a hand to steady him. They spoke in a hushed tone.
"Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten me into," Roy deadpanned.
"How is this my fault?" John sputtered. "I suppose I'm the one who pushed you into this van."
"Calm down," Roy said. "It was a bad joke, okay?"
"Very bad joke." Johnny commented. The two men looked down at the corpse.
"We're in big trouble," Roy said. He looked at his partner. "What are we going to do about Tweedle-dee and his buddy?" He nodded his head to the front of the vehicle. "When they find out their friend is dead...." Johnny blanched. He definitely didn't want to think about what would happen if they found out. He looked at Roy.
"I guess we have to make sure they don't find out then, don't we?" Johnny whispered back.
~*~
Chet pushed the gas pedal to the floor but watched as the van sped out of site. They were traveling way to fast for him to keep up. He slowed but didn't pull over. He wanted to watch where it was going. The van was pulling away, but he was keeping an eye on them. "Oh, man," he said, as he looked at the microphone on the squad's dash. Cap was going to have his head for leaving the scene but he couldn't let Roy disappear without doing something. Why hadn't he called for help? Quickly he picked up the mic to rectify that situation.
~*~
Stanley and Stoker looked at each other as the Squad had sped off. "What the…" Hank said. First Gage and DeSoto disappear, and then Chet takes off like a man possessed. "Vince!" Hank yelled. "Something isn't right here." As Vince ran over to him, he heard a call to Dispatch, that caught his attention...
"LA dispatch, this is Squad 51, Chet Kelly, I've been following a van that has kidnapped John Gage and Roy Desoto. Please alert police."
"10-4 Squad 51, do you have a description of the van and a plate number?"
"It's slate gray, with rust along the running boards. I think it's a Volkswagon, but I could be mistaken. I think the year is '68. Again, I'm not sure. The plates were 080800."
"Are you continuing to follow, 51?"
"Yes, they are pulling away from me. We are on the 405 heading east."
"Police have been contacted and are on their way. Keep us posted as to your whereabouts."
"10-4 LA."
~*~
Roy looked at Johnny with his mouth hanging open. His younger partner had finally cracked. He harshly whispered. "You've totally lost it haven't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Can you tell me how we're going to hide the fact that this guys is dead? Don't you think they'll notice when he won't respond, turns blue, and starts to stink?" Roy shook his head. John put his hand on Roy's shoulder and looked him square in the eye.
"Hopefully we'll be out of here by then. I don't plan on being around that long."
"Oh and I suppose that Superman is going to swoop down and pluck us out of here right?"
"Oh, cut it out Roy. If we can make it look like he's still alive they'll leave us alone long enough to come up with a plan of escape. I've already got some things rolling around in my head." Roy looked at his partner dumbfounded.
"I believe, what you have rolling around in your head are loose marbles."
"Roy, look, if you're not going to help me come up with a plan of escape then don't say anything."
"Oh, man. I know what it is."
"What's that?"
"You've spent to much time with Chet and his old movies." It was Johnny's turn to look at Roy like he'd lost his marbles.
"What?"
"That's exactly what the problem is. You think you're in a movie and that you can just plot your way out of things, right?"
"Roy, I don't want to die, and I don't think you want to die. We need to buy some time. They have to think he's alive. No, they have to KNOW he's still alive."
"And how do we convince them of that?" Roy asked sarcastically. "Tie his shoes to ours and walk him around between us?"
"Very funny, Roy. Now who's watching to many movies? But hey, if we have to, if we have to." Roy rolled his eyes.
"I'm telling you it won't work."
"Look, Roy," John continued, "those two guys don't look like the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree. We'll have to figure out a way to keep them away from him." Roy scrubbed his hand over his face. He was desperately trying to think of a "real" way out of the situation.
"Maybe...if we just talk to them and explain that we did everything we could? I mean it wasn't our fault, we didn't shoot the guy!"
"Roy, I don't think that these are the most reasonable guys in the world! If they find out we didn't save him..." Johnny shuddered at the thought. The van suddenly came to a screeching halt. The two paramedics froze, staring at each other. They heard the two front doors open, and then slam shut, to their horror, the back doors opened.
"How's he doin'?" the shorter man asked, looking at Johnny. His mouth hung open as he looked from the two men, back to Roy, then back to the men again. He tried to say something but was unable to force the words out.
"Oh, he's doing much better," Roy offered, sounding very calm and sure. Johnny's expression went from fear, to disbelief, upon hearing his partners' voice.
"Well, he'd better be!" the taller man insisted. "Now take him and get in the house!" the man ordered, gesturing with his gun toward a run down looking shack, with peeling paint and broken windows.
"Okay," Johnny said, holding his hands out. "You don't have to wave that thing at us!"
"Get movin'!" he demanded. Johnny shot Roy a, "here goes nothing" look, and grabbed the man's feet. Roy folded the dead man's arms over his chest, weaved his arms through the elbows, and grabbed the man's wrists. "Okay sir...this might hurt a little," Johnny said, "but you'll be fine." They carefully lifted the corpse. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Roy could detect the trace of a grin on his partners' face as they carried their "patient" into the house. Roy turned around to address their two live captors.
"He needs a quiet place to lie down and rest." One of the men, Joe, gestured to a door on the left. They headed toward it. Johnny reached out and opened the door. It was a small bedroom. They lay the dead man on the bed and covered him with the ratty blanket lying at the foot of the bed. Roy leaned down to the man's ear and then looked at the others. "He's asking for water."
"Get him some water, Steve," Joe ordered. Steve hurried off to fulfill the command. Joe looked t the man on the bed. "He's really pale. Are you sure he's okay?"
"Of course he is!" Roy declared. "He's just been shot. You'd be pale too if you'd been shot, now, he needs some rest."
"...in peace!" Johnny muttered. Steve entered the room and handed a glass of water to Johnny.
"What did you mean by that?" Joe asked, stepping forward.
"Nothing, he just needs peace and quiet that's all," Roy quickly responded.
"Can I talk to him?" he asked. Johnny's mouth dropped open and he began to stutter.
"I...uh...d-don't..."
"What my partner means is, that you'll need to stay back," Roy interrupted. "He's very susceptible to infection."
"Why can't I talk to him?" he asked again.
"Germs, man!" Johnny said with annoyance, pushing him out of the room. Roy's jaw almost hit the floor. Johnny was pushing the big guy around, and he was the one with the gun.
"Oh...I get it!" the man responded slowly, nodding his head in compliance. "Well, youse guys take good care of him!" He said, as Johnny closed the door. Johnny tipped the glass of water to his mouth and drank some of it down. He lifted the glass to Roy, who shook his head no.
"Do you know what you just did?" Roy whispered, stepping over to Johnny.
"What was that?"
"You pushed the guy with the gun." Realization dawned on the young man, and he almost dropped the glass of water. "Oh, and one more thing. You're really going to have to work on that poker face of yours!" Roy muttered.
"Huh?"
"You're going to get us killed if you aren't more careful," Roy whispered, shaking his head.
"Oh, sorry. You know, you're really good at this!" John commented, a bit surprised. "I thought you didn't like this idea?" The door opened, Roy turned, and started taking vital signs on their "patient".
"Hey...why don't youse guys have germs?" Joe asked suspiciously.
"What are you talking about?"
"You said we could give him our germs. Hows come youse can be around him? Don't youse guys gots germs too?"
"Because, we're paramedics, and they make sure we don't have any germs," Roy quickly answered.
"Oh." The man nodded his head and closed the door again. Johnny could only stare at his partner in disbelief.
"You're really good at this Roy!" Roy grinned at Johnny.
"Amazing, isn't it? Fear is a good motivator," Roy explained. Johnny nodded. He sighed and looked down at the dead man.
"Oh my God!" Johnny exclaimed. Roy's heart skipped a beat.
"What's wrong?" Roy asked. Johnny looked at Roy,
"This is the first time I've had a chance to take a good look at our patient. Roy, LOOK at him." Roy glanced at the bed and did a double take,
"Oh my God!"
~*~
After calling dispatch, Chet had tried to follow the errant van's path. He finally caught up with the speeding van. He saw the van turn onto a dirt road. He sped up, hoping to close the distance between the two vehicles. In his haste, he turned the wheel too hard and ended up driving the Squad into the ditch. Shaken, but unharmed, he contacted LA dispatch, and let them know where he was. He also told them he was going to follow on foot, and then he climbed out of the vehicle. Hopefully, he'd find the van, or a phone, or something ahead. At this point, he was operating on pure adrenaline. He walked for a good 3 miles into the wooded area. Finally, he came upon a run down shack. Smoke curled out of a chimney on the roof. Chet decided to approach with caution, just in case.
~*~
Roy and John stared at one another in amazement. "Are you seeing it?" asked John.
"Yeah," Roy answered. "I see it, but I don't believe it."
"Roy," John said, "that guy could be Chester B's twin. Two Chet's...now that's a scary thought." Roy nodded.
"Yeah, but I'd give anything to have one of him here, with a pulse! Johnny, we can't fool these guys forever. That Joe guy makes me nervous."
"Yeah," said John. "What I wouldn't give to have Chet here!" A noise at the window drew their attention. They saw Chet's mustached face through the dirty window. "No way!" said John. Roy grinned.
"Careful what you wish for, partner." They hurried over to the window. Roy slid it open.
"Johnny, Roy…"
"Shh," whispered John. "You're going to get us killed." They heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.
"Duck," Roy ordered. Chet crouched out of sight, behind the windowsill. The door flew open. Johnny busied himself fussing over the dead man. Joe, the meaner of the two captors, glared at them.
"What's all the noise?" Roy and Johnny looked at each other.
"There's no noise," Roy whispered. "Please, be quiet. We just got your friend to fall asleep. I guess the noise you heard was him. He was fighting us about going to sleep. We were stressing the fact that he really needs to rest."
"Yeah," John added. "Right now he's dead to the world, but if you keep yelling, you'll wake him up." Joe looked from one man to the other.
"Okay," he said. "Steve and me are gonna be watching youse two. Now, keep it down." The paramedics nodded and watched as the door closed. Roy glared at John.
"Dead to the world?" John shrugged.
"Well he is!" The two men hurried back to the window. "Come on Chet, climb in!"
"Why am I coming in? You two come out." Chet stepped back.
"Too risky!" Roy said. "Come on, we need you!" They helped Chet into the room. "Now, strip! Johnny, help me get the clothes off our patient. Hurry and be quiet."
"Strip?" Chet whispered. "Not for any man, DeSoto."
"Come on, Chet," Roy ordered, as he tugged on the sleeve of his 'patient'. "We have a job for you."
"Yeah," said John, pulling the 'patient's' pants off. "We're giving you the part of your life, and for all our sakes, you better be convincing!" John pushed Chet over to the bed and motioned to the dead man.
"Oh my God!" Chet cried softly. "It's me!"
"...and you're about to be him!" answered Roy.
~*~
Captain Stanley supervised the last of the clean up at the speedway. The victims had all been taken to Rampart and the wreckers were preparing to tow away the totaled vehicles. He was becoming more worried as time continued to pass with no word on his missing men. Chet's call for help had been the last they had heard and that had been over two hours ago. Mike and Marco approached him.
"Any word yet Cap?" Marco questioned, suspecting the answer would be no. The Cap would have told them otherwise.
"Nothing Marco." Cap wearily rubbed his eyes. "You're sure you didn't see anything?" He asked both men, and they silently shook their heads. He had asked them the same question half a dozen times already and their answer remained the same.
"Hey, guys," Vince called, as he stepped out of his patrol car and waved for the men to join him. "We just got a report of the abandoned squad in a ditch. No trace of John, Roy or Chet, but at least it gives us an idea where to begin looking."
Chief McConnikee joined the group in time to hear Vince's report. "Hank, I'm standing you and your men down. Take the rig back to the station and join the search."
"We need all the help we can get," Vince responded. "The more time that passes, the larger the search area becomes." Vince quickly jotted down an address on a piece of paper. "Hank, Marco, Mike, meet he here in 30 minutes. That's where we are setting up the command post." Captain Stanley took the slip of paper.
"Thanks Chief. We'll be there Vince."
~*~
"Guys...why don't we just make a break for it?" Chet asked, nervously.
"Wait a minute...how'd you get here?" John asked, his eyebrow arching curiously.
"I walked several miles, well three at least! The squad, accidentally, ended up in the ditch," he shrugged, staring at his ' body double' lying on the bed. "What do these guys want anyway?"
"They want us to take care of their friend here. They said if he dies, we'll be next!" Roy explained.
"Oh man!" Chet's eyes went wide. "He doesn't look so good!" Johnny giggled,
"You don't think so?"
"I'm glad you're finding this so amusing Johnny!" Roy complained, casting an annoyed look at his partner. "The important thing is," he said, turning to Chet, "that they think he looks good!"
"Chet...you should have seen Roy! He was incredible! He has these guys thinking their buddy is doing fine! I never knew you were so good at this, Roy!" Johnny said proudly, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah, so you've said," Roy replied, rolling his eyes at Gage. "Chet, I'm thinking that if you trade clothes with him, maybe you can get us all out of here in one piece!"
"Nuh-uh! No way! I am not putting on his clothes! " Chet backed away from his friends. "A dead man's clothes? Never. I've seen what happens to guys who put on dead men's clothes and it isn't pretty." Chet declared, a chill running down his back. "I'll tell you what. I'm getting out of here, and if you guys want to hang around, be my guest!"
"Shh..." Johnny leaned his ear against the door and waved his hand toward the bed. "Chet get into bed. Make it quick, they're coming." Roy hurriedly flung the blanket off the dead man and pushed the body off the far side of the bed. Grabbing Chet's arm, he quickly shoved him into the bed.
"Close your eyes and moan." Roy whispered, pulling the blanket up to Chet's chin and sitting down next to him.
"No way, Roy. I'm out of here." Chet tried to rise, but quickly dropped back against the pillow and closed his eyes as the doorknob turned.
"What's all that noise in here?" Steve demanded as he and Joe stepped into the room, scrutinizing the paramedics.
"Uh, your friend here got restless and rolled off the bed." Roy nudged Chet, eliciting a pitiful moan.
"But he's okay now, only a little stiff…uh, from the fall I mean." Johnny moved to stand at Chet's feet, blocking the path around the foot of the bed. The two men glanced at the man lying in the bed.
"He don't look so good. Shouldn't he be on some medicine or an IV or something?" Steve reached for the drug box. Roy intercepted him, opening the box and sifting through the contents. "Uh, yeah, an IV." Chet moaned loudly in protest. Johnny looked at Roy, his mouth hanging open. Roy wasn't actually going to start an IV on Chet, was he?
"Uh, Roy..." Roy looked over at his partner.
"Yeah, Johnny?"
"What was it in training that they told us about gunshot wounds and IV's?"
"Oh, man, I forgot about that. If I start an IV on a gunshot victim he may have some type of reaction." The kidnapper looked at him suspiciously.
"What type of a reaction?"
"You know. The metal in the bullet may react to the IV solution causing serious damage to the patient."
"Oh, well, you would know, you're the Doc."
"I'm not a doctor. But this man should be at the hospital, not here in a run down old shack." Roy told them. Chet tried not to sigh out loud. The kidnapper turned with his hand on the doorknob.
"Do what you have to, to keep him alive." They left shutting the door behind them. Johnny collapsed onto the bed.
"Nice save, Roy." He said, running his hand over his face, and through his hair. "Like I said earlier, you are way too good at this!"
"Now what do we do?" Chet whispered. "I don't want you guys to start poking me with all kinds of needles and stuff just to show that jerk that you're taking 'good care' of me!"
"Roy will think of something, don't worry."
"I'll think of something? Why do I have to be the one to come up with something?" Roy asked. "This is your idea remember?"
"Well you're doing such a good job so far, I just thought..." Johnny started to say.
"Johnny, do us all a favor and don't think," Chet put in.
"Fine!" Johnny huffed.
"Fine!" Chet shot back.
"You two shut up," Roy said, looking thoughtful.
"You have an idea, don't you Roy?" Johnny asked.
"Not yet. Chet, how far away did you leave the squad, and is it visible from the road?" Roy asked.
"Well, it felt like I walked ten miles, but I'm pretty sure it's not more than three miles away. And yeah, anyone can see it from the road. The ditch wasn't that deep," Chet said, ignoring the dirty look Johnny gave him.
"Good. All we need to do is buy ourselves some time," Roy said, rubbing his cheek absently as he thought.
"Hey Roy?" John said, giving Chet a smirk. "What do you think Cap's going to say about Chet running the squad into the ditch?"
"Why don't you stow it, Gage?" Chet retorted. "You could at least thank me, for trying to save your sorry butt!" Johnny giggled again.
"Chester B. to the rescue!"
"Johnny please, that's enough!" Roy said, exasperated. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. John and Chet sat quietly for a few moments, while Roy paced nervously.
"Hey, Gage is usually the one pacing around like a caged animal." Chet commented.
"I've got an idea!" Johnny burst out.
"Oh great, Gage has an idea!" Chet rolled his eyes. "Anyone have the number of Guinness Book of records?"
"Shut up Chet! Roy, maybe I should make a run for it, you know, find the squad and radio for help? I was in track you know."
"No Johnny, I don't think that's a good idea. What do you think will happen if those guys come back while you're gone?" Roy asked.
"I hadn't thought of that," Johnny said, looking disappointed.
"That's your whole problem Gage, you can't think," Chet added.
"One of these days, Chester B!" Johnny said warningly.
"Yeah, yeah," Chet taunted.
"Cut it out, both of you! Geez, you're worse than my kids are! Right now, the only thing we can do is to keep up the act and hope the police find us soon," Roy said.
"I guess you're right Roy, I hope I don't blow it. You're really good," Johnny said.
"I'm a firefighter slash paramedic, not an actor," Roy said.
"I just hope those guys don't figure out I'm not their buddy. Speaking of which, what should we do with the body?" Chet asked. Roy looked around the room.
"There's a closet, let's put him in there. I don't think he'll fit under the bed." Between the three of them, they maneuvered the corpse into the closet, making as little noise as possible. As they closed the door, they heard a noise. All three scrambled back to the bed, and as Chet settled back into the bed, the door flew open. Joe walked into the room, shotgun propped on his shoulders.
"You fellas are makin' a lotta noise."
"It was...I… uh...I just..." Johnny stammered.
"Your friend woke up in a lot of pain. We had to give him a shot to calm him down," Roy explained. "He's resting comfortably again." Joe approached the bed, peering down at Chet. Johnny began to hyperventilate. Roy poked him in the ribs and he attempted to calm himself. Joe looked at Roy and John. "He's lookin' a lot better."
"Yeah… he... uh… we... uh," Johnny stammered.
"He needs lots of rest." Roy pointed to the door. "And you really shouldn't be in here. He could pick up an infection very easily." Joe nodded.
"I'm goin'...for now. But I'm takin' your Chatty friend with me. See, I got another job that needs doing... and Steve has to stay and guard you... so your friend here… he's gonna be my assistant." Johnny looked at Roy panic-stricken. Roy turned to Joe.
"I really need him here. It takes two of us to care for a man as ill as your friend." Joe held the gun level to John's chest.
"Well, old Steve will help you. I said I want your friend to come with me...or you're gonna have two patients. Now let's go." He pushed Johnny slightly with the barrel of the gun. With a final panicked look at Roy, Johnny slowly walked out of the room. The door shut behind the two men. Chet sat up and looked at Roy.
"Roy, man...this is not good. Gage alone with that guy... I have a bad feeling about this. We should have made that break while we could."
"Well, it's too late for that now!" Roy looked at Chet. "We have to think of something...fast!" Suddenly there came a voice from the trees.
"Attention you in the cabin! This is the police!" Police Sergeant Tim Riley said over the Bullhorn. "The cabin is surrounded. Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up." Steve and Joe looked at each other.
"See? I told you that the cops would be here to save us!" Johnny told them.
"Shut up, hose-jockey," Joe said, shoving the muzzle of the rifle into the paramedics' midsection.
"Man, quit poking me with that thing!" Johnny said anxiously, glaring at the man holding the gun on him.
"Keep your trap shut!" the man retorted, shoving the gun harder into Gage's ribcage.
"Owe!" exclaimed John, taking a step backward. "You know, you're not going to get away with this! You heard them; they have the place surrounded! If I were you, I'd give up!"
"Yeah? Well, I don't remember askin' you," he said giving the dark haired paramedic a smirk. "Steve, do you remember me askin' the kid here, what we should do?"
"Nope," the other man answered, while nervously peering out the window. The man walked around behind John and shoved the gun into his back.
"Open the door," he ordered, pointing at the bedroom.
"Okay man, take it easy!" John slowly started toward the bedroom. He knocked on the door and waited.
"What are ya knocking for?" the man shouted. Reaching around the paramedic, he opened the door. There was a flurry of activity from behind the door, followed by a loud moan from the bed.
"Oh, it hurts!"
"He's in a lot of pain," Roy calmly offered, looking up as John and the gunman walked into the room. He shot his partner a disapproving look, noticing that John was trying unsuccessfully to hold back a grin. Thankfully, he was standing in front of the gunman. Joe shoved Johnny in the room. Chet burrowed under the covers.
"You awake?" Joe asked. Chet groaned.
"He's really out of it," Roy answered.
"WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP." Came the demand again. Joe shoved the butt of the rifle through the small window.
"I'll shoot these guys, if you don't back away." Captain Stanley turned to the detective in charge.
"You can't endanger my men." The detective frowned.
"Please, Captain. Let me do my job." A shot rang out from the cabin. Everyone dove for cover.
"He's fired on us." Inside the cabin, Roy and Johnny exchanged a worried glance. It was obvious this Joe was out of control. He glanced at Steve.
"Get those other guns in the closet!" The 3 stunned firemen looked at each other. Steve threw open the closet door and screamed as his friend's dead body dropped at his feet.
"Grab him!" Roy shouted. Johnny threw himself on the screaming man and grabbed his flailing arms.
"Somebody grab the gun!" Johnny demanded. Chet leapt up from beneath the covers and picked up the rifle.
"Would...somebody...please...give me a hand?" Johnny desperately tried to hold onto the struggling gunman, who writhed and kicked beneath Johnny's weight. Chet pointed the rifle at Joe.
"Drop it or I shoot." Joe stared in shock at the fireman that held the gun to his gut. He dropped his weapon and held his hands up in the air. Roy leaned out the window and yelled.
"We need some help in here!" The officers stormed the house and took the two criminals into custody. As the three firefighters made their way to a police vehicle Mike, Marco, and Captain Stanley ran over to them. Cap spoke first.
"Are you guys okay?" The dead man was carried out and placed on the porch to wait for the coroner. Marco glanced up at the corpse and gasped.
"Madre de Dios" he stepped toward the porch to get a closer look. He then looked back at Chet. "Is that you?"
"No, I'm me. Roy tried to make me him, but I resisted."
"Resisted? You played the best dead guy I've ever seen." Johnny told them.
"He didn't play a dead guy," Roy explained. "He only pretended to play a dead guy so that they wouldn't kill us."
"Yeah, well, apparently it was all Gage's idea."
"Yeah, well, it was the only thing I could think of at the moment."
"Well, that idea kept us alive. Thanks, Gage." Johnny's mouth dropped open.
"Did I hear what I think I just heard?" Johnny smiled. "Gratitude from Chester B."
"Well, don't let it go to your head," Chet commented.
"That makes me feel pretty good."
"And on that note, I think I want to go home and go to bed." Chet sighed.
"Haven't you been in bed all afternoon?" Johnny joked.
"Very funny, Gage. Are you sure that you're not a comedian on your days off?"
"Okay, guys, enough," Hank said. "I'm glad that you all came out of this alive. Let's go home." The six men walked over to the police van for their ride home.
"I'm curious, Cap."
"What's that Johnny?"
"Did the cops tell you what these three did?" A policeman slid the side door open on the van so that the men could climb into the back. The two paramedics hesitated a moment, letting the others get in first. They looked at each other and then climbed in behind their friends.
"They robbed a convenient store near the Speedway. In the process of trying to escape Chet's body double was shot by the store owner. They have them on surveillance cameras, flashing their guns around. I think one bystander was injured by a stray bullet."
"You saw it?
"They showed us the videotape. They wanted us to know how dangerous these guys were," Cap explained, as the door slid shut. Both men jumped as the handle was clicked into place. They stared at the door, not sure of the emotions they were feeling. Their friends were here and things would be okay. Chet saw the fear in the young mans' eyes.
"And you survived, Johnny, thanks to your ingenuity." Chet commented. "I never knew you had it in you."
"Like Roy said, fear is a great motivator," Johnny told him.