By
This story is affectionately dedicated to my friend Casey J. Reynolds, who left this planet on August 17, 1997. Not long before his death, we were talking about Emergency! and why they never dealt with the war in Vietnam . This is my attempt to deal with the topic. This one's for you, Casey. I miss you, buddy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jack Kellogg sat in his psychiatrist's office, talking about his experiences in Vietnam . “I never saw such things in my life, Doc,” he whispered, his alcohol-reddened eyes filling with tears. “A man in my own platoon sliced open a woman's jugular vein and stood there grinning as the blood spewed like a fountain. The look on his face was absolutely inhuman!”
Dr. Mario Cruz, staff psychiatrist at Mercy General, sighed heavily and removed his wire-rimmed glasses. “How did seeing that make you feel, Jack?” he asked quietly.
“It made me sick to my stomach,” replied the veteran. “Back then, I was still a green recruit from Nebraska . It was my first tour. Boot camp didn't prepare me for things like that. But things changed pretty quick.”
“In what way, Jack?”
Kellogg lifted a hand and rubbed it across his unshaven jaw. “A couple months after that woman was killed, the Sarg and I were out on patrol and he stepped on a land mine. He was there one minute and the next, he was just….gone. The only thing left were his dog-tags. When I got back to camp, I gave his tags to the Major and crawled into a bottle.”
Dr. Cruz nodded sadly. “I understand how you feel. I did three tours in ‘ Nam myself and saw a lot of my buddies die. Were you and the Sergeant friends?”
“I guess you could've called us that. Most of the time, I thought he was a son-of-a-bitch. But he could be a good guy sometimes. Like this one time, my buddy, George Ward and I, went out on the town and got caught sneaking back into camp. We thought we was gonna get our asses chewed, but Sarg covered for us. George was a real pal. He didn't deserve to die the way he did.”
The doctor smiled gently. “How did he die, Jack? You never told me.”
Kellogg stared off into space, recalling his friend's brutal demise. “We got caught by a bunch of those slant-eyed bastards out in the jungle. They took us to a P.O.W. camp and beat the shit out of us, trying to get us to tell them how big our company was. Old George, he refused to talk and they cut a hole in his gut. Took a loop of his intestine and tied it around his leg. He was bleeding real bad, but those Commie sons-of-bitches stood there and laughed !” His face turned crimson with anger and he pounded his fists on his thighs. “They dragged George out into the jungle and left him there. That night, after they put me in my cage, I could hear George screaming.” Jack shuddered convulsively, overcome by the horrific memory. “Next morning, me and a bunch of other prisoners were marched out of their camp. It was then that I found out what happened to George.” Tears slid down his cheeks and he wiped them away angrily. “He was tore apart, Doc. Looked like some wild animal chewed on him all night.” He covered his face with his hands and wept.
The intercom mounted on Dr. Cruz's desk buzzed. Mario glanced at it in annoyance and pressed the button. “Yes, Holly? What is it?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Cruz,” said the receptionist. “Dr. Kelly Brackett is here from Rampart.”
“Tell him I'm right in the middle of a session and ask him to wait!” growled Cruz. He turned the intercom off with a snap. “Go on, Jack,” he said softly.
“While we was being herded through the jungle, a bunch of our boys tried to make a break for it,” said Kellogg. “I was one of them. We took of running and had almost made it to a clump of bushes when the Commies opened up on us. Three guys died instantly and I was hit in the leg and shoulder. I lay there on the ground, looking up into the barrel of one of them burp guns the Viet Cong had. I was sure I was dead, but a squad of Special-Op boys came charging out of their hiding place. The Commies ran like scared rabbits and, next thing I knew, I woke up in a field hospital. The surgeons patched me up. I was sent stateside only to find out my Mama had died a couple weeks before. My old man told me he wrote to me, but I never got the letter. Instead of saying he was glad to see me, he called me a baby-killer and slammed the door in my face! As soon as I was able, I went back and signed up for another tour. Never saw or heard from him again.”
A small alarm clock on the desk went off, signaling the end of the session. “What your father did, Jack, was wrong. But it wasn't your fault. I'd like to continue this discussion at our next session. See you on Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Doc,” replied Kellogg as he got to his feet, using the arm of the chair for leverage.
Cruz escorted his patient out then extended a welcoming hand to Dr. Brackett. “Come on in, Kel,” he grinned. “How're things over at Rampart?”
“Same as always, Mario,” answered Brackett. “The usual chaos and such. The reason I wanted to see you is that I have a patient I'd like you to work with. He's a fireman/paramedic out of Station 16. His name is Craig Brice. His partner was shot to death while they were out on a call in Compton . He says he's handling it okay, but I have my doubts. He always was reserved, but I noticed that he's withdrawing more than usual lately. I thought maybe you could get him to open up a little.”
“Send him on over, Kel,” answered Cruz. “So what's new on the home front? I heard you and Dixie are flying over to China next week to pick up your new daughter.”
Brackett grinned widely. “You heard right,” he beamed. “We leave on Monday morning. Louisa Stanley, a good friend of ours, has offered to help us out until we get the hang of being parents.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “If it were left up to me, I wouldn't even know which end to diaper!” he said, exaggerating just a little.
Mario laughed. “What's this little bundle of joy's name?” he asked.
“Dix and I have decided to call her Rose Marie. Would you like to see a picture?”
Cruz took the offered photograph and smiled. “She's gorgeous, Kel. You're a lucky man. I hope to be in your shoes pretty soon. Angie and I have been trying for the last few months.”
“That's great, Mario. I'm really happy for you.” He glanced down at his watch and stood up. “I better get going. I have a meeting with the Administrator in half an hour. He said he wanted to go over some new equipment literature with me.”
Cruz nodded. “Sounds like fun,” he joked. “As in root canal fun.”
“You know it,” chuckled Brackett as he left.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After leaving Mercy, Jack drove through the city streets, lost in thought. “I wish you had been proud of me, Dad,” he whispered. “I thought you would want me to serve my country the way you did after Pearl Harbor was attacked.”
Up ahead, a large truck pulled up to the intersection. Kellogg slowed his car to let the truck merge into traffic. The truck driver waved to him, a big smile on his bearded face. Jack nodded back and flipped on his turn signal. As soon as the light turned green, he made his turn and drove down the street where his father had lived years ago. The old house was still standing, its front lawn neatly trimmed. Kellogg pulled over to the curb and shut off the engine. A young woman sitting no the front porch eyed him warily before going inside. Shortly afterwards, the woman's husband came out and walked over to Jack's car.
“You need something, buddy?” he asked menacingly.
“No, my old man lived here and just wanted to see the old place again,” answered the veteran. “I didn't mean any harm.”
The house's owner grinned. “No problem. My wife gets a little nervous when people pull up in front of the house is all. She thinks every salesman in town knows where we live.”
Kellogg chuckled. “Have you lived here long?” he asked.
“We bought the place in 1974, after the guy who owned it went into a home. He was pretty anxious to get it off his hands. ‘Bad memories', he said.”
“Do you happen to remember his name by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah, it was Kellogg, Jeff Kellogg. Why do you ask, man?”
Jack sighed sadly. “He's my father,” he whispered. “Is he still alive?”
“Last I knew, he still was. I take it you never knew he was selling the place?”
The veteran shook his head. “No. We, uh, kind of lost touch over the years. Sorry I bothered you. I'll get out of your hair now.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rampart General Hospital
Dixie McCall Brackett looked up and smiled as her friend and co-worker, Louisa Stanley approached the nurse's station. The younger woman's scrubs were rumpled and stained with blood. Even as exhausted as she was, Louisa managed to produce a smile for her friend. “Hey, Dix,” she said. “I don't know about you, but I can't wait for this shift to end.”
The nurse chuckled softly. “You and me both,” she grinned. Where did that blood come from?” she asked, pointing at Louisa's scrub top.
“I assisted Dr. Morton with a patient who had a nasty cut on her arm. She was helping her husband repair their deck and got in the way of the saw. Man, was she lucky! There was no nerve or tendon damage.” She sighed tiredly. “I guess I better go change. Be right back.”
“I'll be here,” joked Dixie . She shook her head in amazement. Even since Louisa had traded in her job in the lab for nursing, the young woman had been working her tail off. She admired the young woman's determination, not to mention her guts. In her time as Head Nurse, Dix had seen well-intentioned girls come and go. Those with the stomach to handle the worst cases stayed, while the less hardy ones changed careers. Louisa had the tenacity not to let the pace get to her.
“Hi, Dix,” said Joe Early as he came out of Kelly Brackett's office. “Is Louisa Stanley working today?”
“Hi, Joe,” answered Dixie . “Yes, she went to change. She'll be back in a few minutes. What's up?”
The silver-haired neurosurgeon smiled. “I wanted to talk to her about one of my patients, Mrs. Nelligan. I heard that Louisa sat with her most of the morning after she came out of surgery. Mrs. Nelligan wanted me to thank her for taking the time to talk to her.”
“Well, now's your chance, because here comes Louisa right now.”
“Hi, Dr. Early. How's Mrs. Nelligan?” asked Louisa, a bright smile on her face.
“She's doing very well. I heard you spent quite a bit of time with her this morning.”
Louisa blushed. “Is that okay? She was all alone. I wanted to make her feel better. She's a real nice lady.”
“Anything that makes my patients comfortable is fine with me,” replied Joe. “I've got a break coming. Would you like to have coffee with me?”
The young woman laughed softly. “Have coffee with a handsome doctor?” she teased. “I can't pass an offer like that up. Lead on, Doc.”
After getting their coffee, the two colleagues sat in the lounge to chat. “Seriously, Louisa,” said Dr. Early. “I've been hearing nothing but praise for your work. Even Mike Morton complimented you after you assisted with Mrs. Jefferson.”
“Wow, he did? I must be doing something right,” joked Louisa. “Careful, Joe. You're going to give me a swelled head.”
Early chuckled. “Nursing suits you, young lady. I don't know what it is, but you have a knack for calming hysterical patients. What's your secret?”
“I just listen to what they say, that's all,” replied Louisa modestly. “I understand what it's like being a patient. Most of the people who come through here are scared that they won't be all right. A few kind words can do wonders.”
“So can a syringe full of tranquilizers, especially for a certain uncooperative paramedic,” joked the neurosurgeon. They shared a laugh. “Maybe we should keep a supply of muzzles in the treatment rooms,” giggled Louisa.
At that moment, the paramedic in question, Johnny Gage, stuck his head in the door. He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “What are you two snickering about?” he asked.
“Never mind, Johnny,” replied Louisa, draining her cup. “Bring us some more business?”
“Nah, Roy and I are just picking up supplies. We haven't had a run all day! You been busy?”
The young woman shook her head. “Not really. Mostly minor injuries so far, thank God. Maybe Hank should have you guys wax the squad a few dozen times to keep you out of trouble.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Half a mile away, Jack Kellogg was muttering under his breath. “Why didn't anyone tell me Dad was going into a nursing home?” he asked himself. “I'm his son! That should account for something!”
He drove through the city streets around Rampart Hospital . He slowed his car and pulled into the parking lot just as a bright red fire department rescue squad drove past. Jack gave the vehicle a cursory glance and frowned. “If we'd had those in ‘ Nam , a lot of our guys would still be alive.”
The veteran's head swam as he parked his car. Long forgotten sounds filled his ears as he walked towards the Emergency Entrance. The screams of his best friend, George Ward, were most prominent and tears filled his eyes. “I'm sorry, buddy,” whispered Jack. “It's my fault you died so hard.”
Dixie glanced up when Kellogg entered the ER. Her forehead creased in concern and she left her seat to lay a hand on his arm. “Sir, are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”
Jack stared at her blankly, seeing only the white uniform she wore. He jerked backwards and almost fell. “I'm all right!” he shouted. “Leave me be!”
His words echoed through the hallway, attracting attention. Louisa and Dr. Early came out of the lounge, drawn by the loud voice. Kellogg spotted them and paled. In his addled mind, he saw them as the enemy. “Don't come near me!” he bellowed. “I mean it, you Commie bastards! Stay back!”
Louisa lifted her hands to waist level and spoke softly. “It's all right, soldier,” she whispered. “Just calm down. No one's gonna hurt you.” She edged closer, her eyes never leaving the veteran's face.
Jack visibly relaxed. He watched the young woman's approach, sweat beading on his forehead. When the young woman was an arm's length away, he shot out a hand and grabbed her wrist, dragging her against his chest. “You don't fool me!” he protested. “You're in cahoots with those slant-eyed bastards!” He yanked a pistol from the pocket of his jacket and pointed it at her temple. “Don't move, bitch,” he snarled. You do and I'll blow your brains out.”
Dr. Early tried to reason with the man. “Don't hurt her,” he said calmly. “We'll do whatever you say. Put the gun down.”
Kellogg's eyes blazed. “Go to Hell, Doc. Stay back or you'll be next.” His eyes shifted sideways, cutting towards a treatment room. He pointed at Dixie . “You! Get your butt over here and open the door.”
The nurse did as she was told, a startled exclamation leaving her lips as the deranged veteran shoved her inside and dragged Louisa in with him. He propelled the young woman across the room and leaned back against the door. “You let my buddy die! Now, you have to die, too.”
Out in the hallway, Dr. Early was placing a frantic call to hospital security. In a few terse sentences, he outlined the situation and asked for assistance. As he hung up, Kelly Brackett emerged from his office. “Joe, what's going on?” he asked.
“Some guy came in here and took Dixie and Louisa hostage,” answered Early. “He's got a gun, Kel. The way he was talking, I'd say he's a vet from Vietnam . I've notified security.”
Brackett turned white. “Start evacuating this floor,” he ordered briskly. “Has he hurt anyone?”
“No, but he threatened to kill both ladies. I overheard him say something about his buddy dying.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Louisa and Dixie stood huddled together, keeping a close eye on Kellogg. The young woman screwed up her courage enough to speak. “What's your name, soldier?” she asked quietly. “Mine's Louisa Stanley and this is Dixie Brackett.”
The veteran stared at her suspiciously for a long moment, then sighed. “Jack Kellogg.”
“Okay, Jack, why don't you tell me what all this is about? You talked about your buddy dying. Was this in Vietnam ?”
“What do you care?” retorted Kellogg angrily. “Yeah, it was. So what?”
“That must have been really hard on you,” replied Louisa. “I'm sorry about that. You wanna talk about it?” She saw Dixie creeping up behind her, taking advantage of the distraction.
“No, I don't, lady,” snarled Jack. He spotted Dixie moving towards him and pointed his gun at her. A shot rang out and the nurse slumped to the floor, a bloody hole in her shoulder.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
All activity in the Emergency Room ceased when the whip-like crack of a shot rang out. Margo, one of the candy stripers, screamed. In an instant, the orderly evacuation turned into pure chaos with people running for the exit in a stampede.
Brackett's eyes bored into the treatment room door, wondering what was happening inside. He started forward when Joe's hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Don't, Kel,” he said sternly.
“Damn it, Joe!” ground out Kel. “My wife is in there. She could be seriously hurt! Let me go!”
Just then, Lieutenant Crockett strode into the ER, followed by six officers. “What's the situation, Dr. Brackett?” he demanded crisply.
“There's a guy in Treatment Four with a gun,” replied Brackett. “He has my wife and Louisa Stanley as hostages. About a minute ago, there was a gun shot.” His eyes begged the Lieutenant to take action.
Crockett nodded briskly and turned to his men. “Leonardo and Davis, guard the entrance and make sure no one gets in. Howard, you and Brooks assist with the evacuation. Jensen and Murphy, stay here until the Hostage Negotiator gets here. Is there anyone here who saw this man, Doctor?”
Sharon Walters stepped forward, her eyes wide with fear. “I did, sir,” she said. “By the way he was dressed, I think he's a Vietnam vet.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Treatment Room Four
Louisa knelt beside Dixie , pressing her hand against her friend's bleeding shoulder. The nurse's eyelids fluttered as she struggled to remain conscious. She groaned in pain, angering Kellogg. “Shut her up!” he growled, waving his gun. His hands shook and the young woman half-expected to feel a bullet enter her own body. After a few tense seconds, Jack's hand dropped to his side. He began to pace the small space, muttering under his breath. “I didn't mean to,” Louisa heard him say. She cleared her throat, swallowing nervously when the veteran turned to look at her.
“Jack, I know you didn't mean to hurt Dixie . It was an accident,” she said softly. “She needs a doctor, Jack. Will you let someone come in and get her?”
Kellogg's eyes glazed as, once again, he heard the dying screams of his best friend. His face contorted in agony and he screamed in raw anguish. “George! I'm sorry, man! I'm coming!” he cried, tears streaming down his unshaved cheeks.
Louisa jumped when a loud, rough voice called from outside the door. “This is Lieutenant Crockett of the Los Angeles Police Department! Come out with your hands up!” Jack heard as well, and it tore him from his stupor. His eyes took on a trapped look and his lip curled like a mad dog. He aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the wooden surface and buried itself in the wall opposite the treatment room. “Go away, cop!” he bellowed.
As the bullet whizzed by, Crockett threw himself face-down in the floor. When he was sure no more shots were going to fired, he climbed to his feet, his face tight with anger. He retreated to the base station, straightening his tie.
Louisa stared at Kellogg wide-eyed. Even though she had no formal training in psychology, she could see that the man was walking a fine line mentally. She closed her eyes and whispered a heartfelt prayer and opened her mouth to speak.
“Jack, it's all right; just calm down.” When Jack turned to look at her, she smiled. “I'm your friend, Jack. I promise you we'll get through this.” Her words had the desired effect and the veteran relaxed. “Please let Dixie go. I'll stay here with you until this is over, okay?”
“Okay, she can leave. Tell the cops she's coming out. Don't try anything funny. I'm watching you.”
“I won't, Jack; you have my word.” She stood up and pressed her ear to the door. “Crockett!” she called. “Get away from the door! He's going to let Dixie leave. If Brackett is with you, tell him to get an operating room ready. She's got a bullet in her shoulder! I'm going to open the door and drag Dixie out now. Keep your men back.”
Seconds later, the treatment room door opened a crack and a brown eye peered out. An instant later, Dixie 's bloody form was pushed through the crack and the door closed with a whoosh.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Station 51
“Station 51, assist the police with hostage crisis at Rampart General Hospital, 2175 Clayton Drive, 2-1-7-5 Clayton, time out 11:15.”
“What in the Hell?” muttered Hank as he heard the call. He stepped to the podium and replied, “Station 51, KMG 365.”
“Uh, Cap, isn't Lou working today?” asked Marco in a strained voice.
“Yeah, pal, she is. I hope to God she's not in the middle of this mess.”
“Wonder what's going on,” commented Johnny as the squad sped through the streets.
“We'll find out soon enough,” answered Roy .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As soon as Dixie was clear of the door, Brackett and Early went into high gear. “Malcolm, get a gurney, quick,” ordered Kel. “Dix, can you hear me?”
The nurse moaned softly and tried to open her eyes. “Kel?” she whispered hoarsely.
“I'm here, honey. You're going to be just fine. Just hold on.” He looked up, his face red with frustration. “Where the devil is that gurney?!?”
“Right here, Doc,” replied Malcolm. He bent down, and with Brackett's help, transferred Dixie to the rolling table. “Dr. Wilson is set up in O.R. Three,” put in Joe, running beside the gurney as it sped towards the elevator. He lifted a hand to stop his friend. “You know you can't treat her, Kel. I'll keep you informed of her condition.”
Kel bit his lip. “Thanks, Joe.” His face twisted in sorrow. “Take good care of her, will you?”
“You bet,” replied Early, disappearing into the elevator.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hank and his crew pulled into Rampart's parking lot, surprised by the number of police cars at the scene. Captain Stanley jumped form the cab and strode to the entrance. A uniformed officer stopped him before he had the chance to enter. “I'm sorry, Captain,” he said. “No one is allowed in. I have my orders.”
Hank stared at the young officer with a steely glint in his eyes. “My men and I have been called in to assist,” he growled. “Either give us clearance or get out of my way!”
The rookie gulped and lifted his hand to his shoulder. “Leonardo to Crockett. The fire department is here, Lieutenant. Should I let them in?”
Crockett's annoyed voice emerged from the small speaker on the officer's shoulder. “Of course , you knucklehead!” he bellowed. “I called them in personally!”
“Go ahead, Captain,” said Leonardo, his face red.
“Twit,” muttered Hank as he passed through the doors. He spotted Crockett in conference with Dr. Brackett and walked over. “What's going on, Lieutenant?” he asked.
The African-American police officer frowned. “Some nut with a gun is holed up in one of the treatment rooms,” he grumbled. “He shot one of the hostages. The other one is still in there with him.”
Johnny looked around the Emergency Department, searching for a familiar face. The two people that should have been there weren't. He nudged his partner and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Roy, Dix and Louisa aren't here. You don't think…?” His voice trailed off as Brackett spoke up.
“ Dixie was shot,” said the doctor. “She's in surgery as we speak.” He paused, biting his lip. “Hank, Louisa is the other hostage.”
The Captain's face turned white. Marco reached into his turn-out pocket and pulled out his rosary beads. He murmured a prayer, asking God to protect his sister. Chet glanced at his shift mates and voiced the question that was on all their minds. “Is she hurt?”
Crockett interrupted as Kel started to answer. “We don't know, Kelly. We've tried to reach her on the treatment room phone, but no one is answering.”
“Keep trying!” retorted Mike. “If you don't, I'll do it myself!” He shoved past Chet and Marco and walked up to the treatment room door. He pounded on the wooden surface with his fist. “Louisa! Are you in there?!?”
Jack's head whipped around when her heard the engineer's voice. Louisa laid her hand on his arm, shaking her head. “It's all right, Jack; it's just my brother. Can I tell him that I'm okay?” she begged. The vet nodded.
“Mike!” she shouted back. “I'm fine! Any word on Dixie ?”
The entire crew breathed a sigh of relief. “Not yet, little sister,” Mike yelled back. “We'll let you know the second we hear anything.”
“That's enough,” snarled Kellogg, dragging the young woman away from the door. His eyes blazed when the phone rang yet again. “Answer that blasted thing already!”
Louisa lifted the receiver and held it to her ear. “Who's this?” she asked.
“Mrs. Stanley? Lieutenant Crockett here. What is his state of mind?”
“Pretty agitated, Lieutenant. All the activity out there is getting him all riled up. Can't you hold it down?” Her voice held a hint of teasing and Crockett smiled.
“All right, I'll try. Get him talking if you can, so we can figure out what set him off. But don't take any chances. I'll call again in one hour.” He hung up and sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Get all unnecessary personnel out of the area, Dr. Brackett. According to Mrs. Stanley, that guy is upset about the noise. I don't want to have two injured people on my conscience if I can help it.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Treatment Room Four
Louisa watched Jack closely as he paced around the room, grumbling under his breath. “Jack, the Lieutenant promised to back off for a while,” she said quietly, attempting to calm the man. “I'm here to listen if you want to talk.”
Kellogg turned to face her, his eyes wild. “What do you care?” he spat. “You've got a perfect life!”
The young woman laughed softly. “I wouldn't say that,” she grinned. “I've had more than my share of hard times.”
This caught Jack's attention and he sat down on the floor, motioning for Louisa to sit beside him. “Yeah? Like what? A broken fingernail or two?” he sneered.
“A few, but that's nothing compared to what happened to me a couple months after I moved to Los Angeles . An old boyfriend of mine, Tom Parker, showed up and kidnapped me. He held me responsible for sending him to prison.”
Kellogg's eyes widened. “What was he in the joint for?”
“Beating up a guy up in Montana . I worked on a ranch up there for a while. Anyway, Tom showed up and smashed into the back of my car and dragged me to an abandoned warehouse on Highland Avenue . Lucky for me, my boyfriend, who is now my husband, and my brother figured out what was going on and got to me in time. I spent some time in the hospital, but that wasn't the end of the whole mess.”
“Man, what a whack job,” replied Jack, awe struck. “What else did this guy do to you?”
Louisa smiled, realizing that she had the man enthralled. “Tom went back to jail, but somehow, he caused an accident that seriously injured my husband. By that time, my twins had been born. A few days before Christmas, Tom and his brother, Jason, came to our home and threatened to kill me, my kids, and my mother.” She stopped to take a breath, the memories flooding her brain. “Long story short, I ended up shooting that son-of-a-bitch in the back.”
Kellogg stared at her in shock. “You killed him?” he gasped. “My God.”
“At the time, I didn't have any choice. He was holding a gun on my mother and baby. This was after he shot my brother in the chest. We weren't sure he was gonna make it for a while.” The young woman shuddered as an image of Marco lying bloody and silent on the hall floor flashed before her eyes. She shook her head, driving away the horrific picture. “Are you sure you want to hear all this?”
The veteran shrugged. “I guess so. It makes my problems seem insignificant. But I'm sure you don't want to hear me complain about how bad my life sucks.”
Louisa smiled gently. “Of course I do, Jack,” she whispered. “Maybe I can help you work things out.”
Jack stared down at his hands, deep in thought. Louisa glanced at her watch, taking note of the time. Over two hours had passed while she had been telling Jack about her experiences with Tom. She opened her mouth to ask the veteran a question, but was interrupted by the ringing phone mounted on the wall. The young woman got up to answer it. “Crockett?” she asked.
“What's going on in there?” demanded the Lieutenant. “We haven't heard any sounds in over an hour. Are you all right?”
“I'm fine. We were just talking. Any word on Dixie ?”
“Mrs. Brackett will be all right,” replied Crockett. “What are you and this guy talking about anyway. I almost forgot; what's his name?”
Louisa covered the received with her hand. “Crockett wants to know your name, Jack. Can I tell him?” At the man's nod, she went on. “Jack Kellogg. I'm hanging up now, Lieutenant.”
“Mrs. Stanley, wait! Damn it! Okay, boys, we've got a name. Get me anything you can find out on a Jack Kellogg.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Louisa crossed the treatment room and sat back down beside Kellogg. “You looked like you were going to tell me something before we were so rudely interrupted,” she grinned.
Jack smirked. “It's not as exciting as what you told me, but here goes. “I was born on a farm in Nebraska . My old man was a wheat farmer and my mother was a teacher before she married my Dad. I was nineteen when the war in ‘ Nam started. Instead of waiting to be drafted, I marched into the local recruiting office and volunteered. I spent my basic training at Fort Benning , down in Georgia . That's where I met George Ward. He was a great guy, always laughing and joking around. George was a career Army man and served in Korea for a while. We got to be close friends even though he was my Lieutenant.” A brief smile flickered across his face. “He covered my ass more times than I can count. There I was, a green kid from Nebraska who had never been more than twenty miles from home. I was so wet behind the ears it was funny. I screwed up more than once and almost got in Dutch with the Captain, but George spoke up for me. Six months after basic, my whole platoon was deployed and sent to Vietnam . This was before it got really bad.” His words trailed off as he remembered those first days.
Louisa rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I remember hearing about how brutal things got over there,” she whispered.
“You have no idea,” replied Jack. “I saw things that would curl your hair. People butchered, babies with their heads split open; it was awful. Anyway, I survived my first tour and, like a fool, signed up again. Me and George were part of a company that got sent to Saigon . We were there for about four months and ended up getting transferred to the jungle. We were out on patrol one day and stumbled across a bunch of those Commie bastards. The Cap was killed in the first attack, but most of us got away. We hid out in this little village for a couple days until another company joined us. Some of the guys in my platoon captured this woman; she couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Perkins was trying to get her to go in a hut with him and she started screaming. She clawed his face pretty bad and he pulled out a knife and slit her throat to shut her up. That little bastard just stood there and grinned while her blood spewed like a fountain.” He bent his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “He laughed ! Can you believe that?”
“War changes people, Jack,” replied the young woman. “The mind can only take so much before something snaps. That could be what happened to Perkins, but it wasn't your fault.”
Kellogg smiled thinly and grasped the young woman's hand. “I know, but thanks for saying it.” He rubbed a hand along his beard-stubbled jaw and continued. “A couple months after that woman was killed, my Sergeant and I were walking through the jungle, looking for Commies. Sarg stepped on a buried landmine. It blew him to Kingdom Come. There was nothing left but his tags. The guy didn't even have time to yell. I went back to camp to report in, gave the Major Sarg's dog tags and got drunk. That's how George and I ended up getting captured. The bastards took us to the headquarters and questioned us. Me and George never told ‘em nothing, even after they tortured us. The head Commie cut open George's gut and looped his intestine around his leg to make him talk. I'll never forget the sounds of his screams! It was awful, like a dog squealing in pain. George died that night and I spent the rest of the war in a P.O.W. camp.” He covered his face with his hands and wept. “I couldn't do nothing to save my buddy! I tried to help him, but he was hurt too bad! God, why did I live while George died?”
Louisa wrapped her arms around the sobbing veteran and cried with him. Jack shivered violently as his grief burst forth in a flood. Jack clung to the young woman for several minutes, drawing comfort from her embrace. Finally, he pulled away, blushing with embarrassment. “I'm sorry about that,” he apologized.
“You have nothing to be sorry for , Jack. Showing grief over your friend's death is nothing to be ashamed of. When my adopted father died, I cried oceans of tears. It's a natural part of mourning.”
Kellogg's mouth twisted into a sneer. “I was brought up not to show my emotions,” he muttered. “Okay, lady, you got me started. I guess you better hear the rest. After my release, I was shipped to Walter Reed to recuperate from my ‘ordeal', as the head shrinker called it. He told me I had to talk about what happened or I wouldn't ever get past it.” He made a rude noise. “Like he would know what it was like over there. He spent the whole war stateside. Anyway, a couple weeks before I was released from the hospital, my aunt came to visit me. She told me that my old man had sold the farm in Nebraska and moved to L.A. She gave me the address and told me to collect my stuff when I was able to. The Army flew me out here and I went to Dad's new home. I wasn't there fifteen minutes before the old man started calling me a baby killer and a murderer. He told me that I was no longer his son and kicked me out into the street. My aunt was there, too. I expected her to defend me, but she never said a damn word!”
Louisa gasped. “That's terrible!” she protested angrily. “Your father had no right to do that! Didn't he even care what you went through over there?!?”
“Nope. In his eyes, the war was wrong. He told me he wanted no part of a man who participated in needless slaughter. I never saw him after that.”
The young woman frowned darkly, her temper rising. “Are your parents still alive?” she asked.
“Nah, Mom died not long after I went into the Army, and Dad, well, he's in a nursing home someplace. I drove by the house earlier and the present owner told me. I have no idea where the old bastard is, or even if he wants to see me.”
Louisa was silent for a minute. “Jack, if your father did want to see you, would you want to see him?”
Jack nodded slowly. “Yeah, I wanna make things right before it's too late. But, how can I? I don't know where he is.”
“If he's in the general area, we could track him down,” answered Louisa, excitement making her eyes glow. “What's his name? I could ask Dr. Brackett to call around.”
Kellogg gazed at her in surprise. “You'd do that for me, after what I did? I shot your friend and have kept you here like a caged animal.”
“I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone, Jack. You just need to work out a few things.”
The veteran shook his head, a chuckle rising in his throat. “You're quite a lady, Louisa,” he grinned. “I hope your husband knows how lucky he is.”
Louisa laughed with him. “I'll have to remind him,” she giggled. “Come on; what's your father's name?”
“Jeffrey Kellogg, Junior. He would be around eighty-two now.”
“Okay, Jack, sit tight. I'm gonna get Brackett on the phone and get the ball rolling.” She picked up the telephone and dialed a number. Crockett, who was manning the phone, snatched it up and barked, “Mrs. Stanley? Talk to me, woman!”
“Relax, Lieutenant. Get Dr. Brackett on the phone. I need to talk to him.”
The officer handed the phone to Kel and muttered under his breath. Brackett stared at him in confusion and spoke. “Louisa? What's wrong? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, Kel. Listen, I need you to do something for me. Call around to every nursing home and retirement home in the county and see if you can locate a Jeffrey Kellogg, Junior, age about eighty-two. If you find him, get someone to bring him here. I don't have time to explain, but it's a matter of life and death.”
“All right,” answered Brackett. He looked up when Hank tugged on his sleeve.
“Louisa, Hank wants to talk to you.”
“Honey, are you all right? What's going on in there?” demanded the Captain, his voice strained and worried.
“Don't worry about me, hose jockey,” chuckled Louisa. “I'll tell you everything when it's over. Tell Kel to get cracking. I love you.” She paused when Jack whispered in her ear. “Oh, and Jack said to tell you that you're a lucky man. I'll see you later, sweetheart.” She hung up, a wide grin on her face. “Brackett will find your Dad, Jack, even if he has to move Heaven and Earth to do it.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Marco stood watching his Captain and brother-in-law closely. The strain of waiting was taking its toll on the man and he appeared ready to crack. The Latino fireman nudged Chet and motioned him into a corner. “This better end soon,” whispered Lopez, “or Cap is gonna lose it.”
“You got that right,” Chet whispered back. “I'd rather battle a three-alarm fire than sit here doing nothing.”
Mike saw his shift-mates standing off to one side and walked over. “Cap looks ready to blow,” he commented. “I'm not so sure I blame him. What in the world could Lou be talking to that lunatic about in there?”
Over at the base station, Kelly Brackett's face split into a wide grin. “You're sure it's the Jeffrey Kellogg I'm looking for?” he asked. “Okay, I'll take your word for it. I need you to get him over to Rampart Emergency as son as possible. Right, we'll be waiting.” He hung up and turned to Lieutenant Crockett. “I found Kellogg's father,” he said. “The nursing home is preparing him for transport as we speak.”
Crockett smiled. “Good; maybe we can wrap this mess up shortly. It's been quiet in that room for too long. I don't like it.”
The base station phone rang. Kel snatched it up. “Louisa? Yeah, I found him. He's on his way. What? No, Dix is fine. She was transferred to a room an hour ago.” He laughed out loud. “Okay, hold on. Hank, your wife wants to talk to you again.”
The Captain grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear. “Yeah, honey, I just heard. Is everything all right on your end?”
“We're both fine, sweetheart,” answered Louisa. “How are you holding up, big guy?”
“Okay, I guess. I just want this over with.”
“We're in the home stretch now, Hank. Let me know when Mr. Kellogg gets here. Ph, and tell my brother to stop wearing a groove in the floor.”
Captain Stanley looked up, watching as Mike and Marco paced the hallway. “How did you know? Never mind; tell me alter. Love you.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jack stared down at his hands. “How can you be sure my old man will even talk to me?” he asked.
Louisa chuckled. “He better; otherwise, I'll have to get tough on him.” She knelt down in front of the junior Kellogg and smiled. “I may not look like it, but my children call me ‘The Drill Sergeant' behind my back. All you have to do is tell your father what you told me, Jack.”
Kellogg snickered. “It must be great having kids,” he mused. “How old are you children?”
“Emma and Matthew, the twins, are nine, Hannah is five, and Robert, my baby, is three,” answered the young woman, a faint smile crossing her lips. “They can be a holy terror at times, but I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.”
Jack chuckled softly. “I'd like to meet them sometime, if it's okay with you and your husband. What does he do?”
“He's a Captain in the LA County fire department. Both of my brothers work for him.”
“Really? That's cool. I bet they enjoy that.”
Louisa burst out laughing and nodded. “Most of the time, they do. What's even weirder is that I didn't even know Mike was my brother until a few years ago. See, our mother gave him up for adoption shortly after he was born. We kind of found each other by accident.”
“How did that happen?” asked Jack, his eyes lighting up with interest.
“I had arranged a meeting with my mother and my aunt, who, by the way, set up my adoption. It was right here in this hospital, believe it or not. I found out that I had an older brother and got really upset with both of those women. I ran out of the meeting and went up to the Emergency Department. Dr. Brackett told me that 51's was bringing in an injured fireman. My Aunt Katherine had given me some papers on my brother's adoption. I didn't even think about them until John Gage, one of the paramedics at Hank's station, asked me about them. Well, I took a closer look and them and found out that Mike , the injured firefighter, was my brother!” She chuckled wryly. “It sounds like a plot straight out of a soap opera, huh?”
“I'll say,” laughed Kellogg. “I always wanted a brother or sister. After I was born, Mom's doctor said it was too dangerous for her to have another.”
“My brothers can drive me crazy sometimes, but that doesn't mean I love them any less.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Officer Leonardo watched as an ambulance pulled up in front of the Emergency Room entrance. The rear doors to the transport vehicle swung open and a frail-looking old man climbed out, assisted by a nurse in a pristine white uniform. “I'm Jeffrey Kellogg, Junior,” announced the man. “Where is my son?” he demanded.
Leonardo goggled, unnerved by the old man's tone. “Uh, he's inside, sir,” he stammered. He raised his walkie-talkie. “Lieutenant, Mr. Kellogg is here, sir.”
Crockett acknowledged the call and headed for the entrance. “Mr. Kellogg, I'm Lieutenant Ron Crockett. Come with me please.”
“Will someone tell me what the Hell is going on?” blustered Jeffrey.
Hank and his crew stared at the man, eyes wide with shock. Instead of the weak, sick elderly man they had expected, Kellogg looked much younger than his eighty-two years. He carried himself with an almost-military erectness and his faded green eyes blazed. Kellogg listened impatiently as Crockett explained the situation. “Yes, fine; just take me to him and I'll talk some sense into him.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Louisa and Jack jumped when the treatment room phone rang. “Kellogg's father is here. We're sending him in.”
The young woman sighed nervously. “Your father is here, Jack. The Lieutenant is sending him in.” Before the sentence was even out of her mouth, the door swung open and Jeffrey stood there. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time, Johnathan?” he bellowed. “Well, speak up, boy!”
Jack stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. He gaped at his father, his jaw hanging to his chest. “Papa?” he gasped out finally.
“Who did you expect? The Tooth Fairy?” shot back the elder Kellogg, much to Louisa's amusement. A giggled bubbled up in her throat before she could stop it. Jeffrey turned to look at her, his face annoyed. “What is so funny, young lady?” he challenged.
Louisa raised a hand. “Nothing, sir. You just reminded me of my husband when he's upset with one of his men.” She glanced at Jack. “Your son has something to say to you. I suggest you listen, Mr. Kellogg.”
The younger Kellogg swallowed and nodded. “I know you don't want anything to do with me, Papa, but I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for being such a disappointment. I've done some awful things in my life. Mrs. Stanley here helped me understand that it wasn't my fault. I need your forgiveness, Papa.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked down at the floor.
Jeffrey planted his hands on his hips and frowned. “You were never a disappointment to me, Johnathan. I know what I said to you after you came home from Vietnam gave you that impression, and I'm sorry. I was wrong for turning away from you. Can you forgive a foolish old man for being a stubborn jackass?” He stepped forward and embraced his son tightly. “I've wanted to find you for a long time, son. I guess my pride got in the way.”
Jack wrapped his arms around his father and wept bitterly. The treatment room door burst open, interrupting the reunion. Louisa glared hard at Crockett and pointed towards the hallway. “Give them some time, Crockett,” she hissed. “I'll bring both of them out when I'm damn good and ready! Now, beat it!” She shoved the flabbergasted officer out of the room and slammed the door. A explosion of laughter erupted from Hank, his men, and the rest of the group gathered in the hallway. “Carry on, gentlemen,” she grinned. “I'll handle the boys in blue.”
Jack glanced up, a wide grin on his face. “Now I know why your kids call you a drill sergeant,” he chuckled.