To Have and to Hold  (Twisted Love) By Gabriele What the hell……? Mike Stoker was busy hoisting the flags in front of the station house, when a motor being revved up in an urgent fashion startled him. He watched spellbound as a late model sky blue ford hurdled toward him with no evidence of the driver trying to right the path of the car's direction. On the contrary, the vehicle aimed straight for him. Mike was frozen with shock. At the last moment self preservation kicked in and he threw himself into the bushes behind the flagpole. The agonized scream of the car tires, being forced at high speed onto the curb and then off, filled the air. The ford disappeared down the street. Marco, who was cleaning the floor of the apparatus bay, came running toward his friend. Mike stood up and brushed grass and leaves of his clothes and hair. "Mike, Mike are you all right?" Marco was beside himself with worry. He had witnessed the scene and still could not believe his eyes. This was straight out of a movie scene. "Yeah I'm fine" Mike replied, still in shock. "What the heck happened?" "Well, as far as I can tell, the driver of that car was trying to run you down Mike," Marco replied. "What in blazes did you do?" The handsome engineer of station 51's A-shift could only shrug. "I don't remember making anyone mad enough to try to kill me, at least not recently, but you know me, with my fast paced, adventurous live, who knows." He shot Marco a smile, and Marco smiled back. Mike was the most laid back man he knew. "Marco?" He looked at his friend. "What?' "Marco, please don't say anything to the others. They just get worried over nothing. I mean it was probably just some kids, out on a joy ride and the car got out of control, you know." "I don't know Mike, this did look like a deliberate attempt to get you, and I would feel better if there were some more eyes out there for you." Marco could not shake the uneasiness that washed over him. "Oh, come on Marco," Mike placed a hand on his friends shoulder " you know they would turn into five giant mother hens, clucking over me. I rather not be the center of their attention," Mike heaved a sigh "I don't want to be the center of anyone's attention. I have always done better being alone, and I always will. I can take care of myself, O.K.?" "Mike…." Marco said "Marco, please." Mike interrupted, "if anything else happens, you can tell me that you told me so, but I just don't think it will." "All right, but let me tell you something, if anything else happens, I'll open my mouth so fast it'll make your head spin." Marco was clearly unhappy. "O.K., deal." Mike turned and calmly walked into the engine bay. ##### A scant four miles away a man exited a blue ford, angrily muttering to himself. "Well Stoker, this time you were lucky, but I'm not finished, not by a long shot. Nobody takes what's mine, nobody. You and the bitch will get what's coming to you, and I'll enjoy every minute of it." Abandoning the stolen car, he walked on. ##### "Roy, John," Cap walked into the kitchen. "I need one of you to bring the log book up to date. You're hopelessly behind." "Cap," Johnny pleaded, "We just got back from a run, can't we at least have a cup of coffee?" "Hey Gage, would you like some cheese with that whine?" Chet could not resist taking a shot at his favorite pigeon. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you try and invent another way of keeping your runs straight. Or try the tape recorder again, who knows, maybe this time you can reach Mars." Johnny turned and gave Chet a 100-watt glare.  A great effort, unfortunately wasted, because Chet was not at all fazed. "John, you know the log needs to be updated," Cap jumped in, desperately trying to avoid a John versus Chet free for all. "Why don't you and Roy take your coffee and go to my office. I'll make sure you're left alone, but I want to get the work done, got it?" "I got it, I got it." Johnny heaved a sigh that would delight any drama coach. Mike took pity. "Here guys," he handed Roy a spiral notebook. "Here are the engines runs. A lot of them we did together.  It should help you out. At least you don't have to wrestle trough the log and all three shifts. "Thanks Mike." Roy smiled at the engineer, "as usual, we can count on you." The tall engineer nodded. He was quiet, calm and dependable. He was by no means a shrinking violet and could give as good as he got, but more often than not he listened instead of speaking. "Yeah, here I come to save the day." He grinned and walked into the engine bay. There were things to polish and gauges to check. No one could say that HIS engine was anything but a superb machine. John and Roy were on his heels, heading for the office. Roy looking resigned, Johnny was sulking. Man, he HATED paperwork. Where was this @#$%# klaxon when you needed it, he thought. ##### Meanwhile, behind the façade of a dirty brown rooming house, a man was brooding. A bottle of cheap gin stood on the table by his elbow. He kept taking deep gulps out of it. The more he drank, the angrier he became. Maybe he should kill the bitch first.  She was easier to get at. Naaa, he'll do the damn fireman first. That would hurt her even more. He would kill her slowly, watching her pain, while he told her how he took care of her savior, the all American, clean cut Mr. Wonderful. He had to be careful though. It had to look like an accident. He did not want to unduly warn anybody, and put them on their guard. Oh well, not to worry; he had all the time in the world. Stoker, that arrogant s.o.b. was not going anywhere. ##### Mike was busy cooking dinner for his friends. He was trying out a seafood casserole, carefully omitting the fish. He didn't  want Cap to blow his lid. It puzzled him, that Cap could eat any seafood, but paled visibly at fish. But he was not about to ask him about it. Mike was a tolerant man; live and let live was his motto. As far as he was concerned, everybody was entitled to their little idiosyncrasies and quirks, as long as they did not harm another living being. Johnny walked into the kitchen, still in a dreadful mood. He brightened up a little when he smelled the aroma of the food. Mike looked up. "What's the matter Johnny, didn't you get done with the log yet?" Johnny took a deep breath. "I hate paperwork, I'm trained to be a rescue man and a paramedic, not a pencil pusher. You know, something should be done about this.  We should not have to spend half our time with this stupid paperwork." Mike suppressed a sigh. He had inadvertently set Johnny off on one of his famous rants. Make no mistake, he liked Johnny very much, but sometimes he was a little nerve wracking. "Hey Johnny," he interrupted his friend in mid-rant, "Would you please help me set the table? Dinner is almost ready, and I'm sure you are hungry after all that work." Johnny walked to the cabinets to get the dishes. "Sure Mike, it smells delicious. What're you cooking?" Mike turned the oven off. "It's a seafood casserole. My mom sent me the recipe. It was a favorite with us kids." He smiled at Johnny's cock eyed look. "No, I left the fish out. No need to set Cap of too." The last part slipped out, before he could stop himself. Maybe Johnny hadn't caught it. Fat chance, Johnny was sensitive to inflections of tone, so a spoken word could not possibly escape him. "What do you mean by that?" There was a tiny edge in Johnny's voice. Mike went into damage control. "Well, you are upset over all that paperwork, no need to upset Cap over Mackerel." He gave Johnny a goofy grin. "Don't you agree?" Johnny chuckled. Nobody could really stay mad at Mike. "I guess you're right. I do go off at the drop of a hat, sorry." Mike clapped his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Hey, you're talking to a guy who gets migraine attacks when he finds a dull spot on the fire engine." That got a laugh from Johnny. "I guess nobody's perfect." Mike rolled his eyes. "Thank goodness.  Can you imagine how dull life would be otherwise?" Johnny smiled. "How right you are buddy."   They finished setting the table in companionable silence. ##### In the filthy room, which reeked of stale booze, a man was sleeping in an alcoholic stupor. A tickle along his arm roused him. He looked up bleary eyed. His head swayed, his eyes tried to focus. The sign from the motel across the street, affectionately called 'hooker heaven' by the denizens of the block, illuminated his room. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. A cockroach. He lifted his hand. SPLAT. He giggled insanely. That's you Stoker, I'll squash you like a bug. His cackle rose until it ended in a coughing fit. He grabbed the gin bottle and took a deep swallow. ##### A-shift had a relatively quiet night. The engine was called out once, the squad twice. All three calls where to minor incidents, and they were able to deal with them quickly. When the wake up call came through they were well rested and in a good mood. Only one more hour and B-shift would start arriving. "Hey guys, how about going out for breakfast." Marco stretched and yawned. Unlike most other co-worker relationships, the closeness of A-shift went beyond their shift. They saw each other socially and enjoyed each other's company outside the work environment. Even their families were close. "Hey, did you all hear that?" Chet piped up. "Marco is buying us breakfast." He turned his impish grin in Marco's direction. "Thanks pal, we will." "Wait a minute." Marco was slightly panicked. "I didn't say that. I would love to buy everybody breakfast, but I would need a raise for that, how about it Cap?" Cap shook his head in amusement. "O.K., guys simmer down. We go to breakfast and we all go dutch. The department can't afford raises right now. That all right with you, Chester B.?" "Sure Cap." Chet's mustache twitched. "What ever you say Cap." B-shift started to straggle in. They spent the remaining time talking and joking with their relief. When all of B-shift arrived, A-shift said their good-byes and left for their favorite restaurant. Nobody paid any attention to the brown Chevy parked across the street. It followed them at a discreet distance. After breakfast the crew went to their cars. Mike entered his Bronco, shaking his head and smiling. He was looking forward to hiking in the mountains, his faithful dog at his side. He felt at peace with the quiet majesty of nature. He felt safe and secure in spaces untouched by human hands.   He pulled out of the parking lot, not aware of the Chevy, following him. Marco stood in the parking lot. He noticed the brown car pull out right after Mike's Bronco. He caught a glimpse of the driver, a scruffy looking, bearded man. An odd feeling came over him. He had by no means forgotten the incident at the station. He noted down the license number. Mike hit the remote garage door opener as he pulled into his driveway. He pulled in and the door closed. He whistled as he approached the connecting door to his house, hearing his dog Smiley scratching and whining, waiting to greet his master. The man cursed. A garage. No way could he get to his enemy's car there. But not to worry, he told himself.  I can get to it at the station. They're bound to get called out together, and if not, he could always help matters along. He raised a bottle of booze. Here's to your death, you son of a bitch, and a bastard to match. The next days passed uneventful. After a long and satisfying hiking trip, Mike and Marco met for dinner at Marco's favorite restaurant. It belonged to a relative of Marco's, but which or what kind of relative Mike was not too sure about.  Marco tried to explain it once, but Mike missed a turn right around a third cousin once removed and got lost. Well, at any event, the food was great, the company excellent and the atmosphere relaxed. They thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Marco's uneasiness had evaporated; the brown car slipped from his mind. After dinner they parted company, having made plans to meet at Mike's the next day. They wanted to go to the wharf and check on fishing boats. Both being passionate fishermen, wanted to do some deep sea fishing in the near future. ##### In the outskirts of the city stood a well kept large old house. Diagonally across the street was a large parking lot, extending to the corner of the block.  The man  parked his car there, knowing that he would go undetected among all the other cars. He stared intently at the house. It was a very busy house; it's inhabitants coming and going, visitors arriving and being welcomed. The man became more and more agitated. The one he was seeking did not appear. He hit the steering wheel in frustration.  Suddenly he stiffened. There she was, coming out the door with another woman, chatting and laughing. The sight of her enjoying herself brought his anger to a boiling point. He would wipe the laughter right off her face. The thought of making her cower and cringe brought on a big smile.  Yeah, you go right ahead, have fun, soon you'll be begging for mercy, bitch. ##### Meanwhile, at station 51, A-shift arrived for duty. The guys, with the exception of Johnny, who had not yet arrived (after all it was at least 10 minutes before the beginning of shift, way too early for him), were in deep discussion about fishing boats and other assorted fishing topics.  The squealing of tires made them aware, that it was five minutes to roll call.  Roy looked at his watch. Either the watch was two minutes slow or Johnny was early. Roy hesitated. Nah, with a shake of his head he adjusted his watch. The crew was busy with morning chores. Johnny was doing latrine duty, due to his tardiness, Chet was let out of the doghouse to make room for Johnny. He was scrubbing vigorously, all the while mumbling about stupid shoelaces and inferior products of shoelace manufacturers. The klaxon interrupted his thoughts. 'Station 51, structure fire at 554 Lourdon Street, cross street Stanholme Avenue, time out 10:50.' The men rushed to their vehicles, while Cap acknowledged the dispatch.  He handed Roy the address and hurried to the passenger side of the Engine. He was barely up when Mike turned into the street, following the squad. The man just rounded the corner down the block, passing a hamburger stand, when he saw the squad and the engine leave the bay. He smiled. Now was the time. He was almost there when a red vehicle with the words 'L. A. County Fire department -Vehicle maintenance-' turned into the driveway of the station. It was driven by a grim looking gray haired man, who was shaking his head, all the while mumbling to himself.  Nasty curse words flew from the man's mouth. He had come so close. He looked up and saw the engine going down the road, nearing an intersection. He pushed the gas pedal, picking up speed. He would follow the engine; he wanted to see his enemy in action. Maybe, just maybe, an opportunity would present itself. After all, everybody knew firefighting was a dangerous job. ##### The squad pulled to a stop in front of the address; the airbrakes of the big engine whooshing as Mike stopped at a forward angle to the squad. The efficient Marco already attached the line to a hydrant and came running up to his mates. The structure on fire was a large detached garage, standing close to a large two-story house. Smoke poured out of a window and from under the garage door, which stood slightly open. "Chet, Marco, grab an inch and a half, attack the fire from the west side, Johnny Roy another inch and a half, and go to the north side."  Cap turned to his engineer. "Let's get this under control fast, before it jumps to other buildings. Call dispatch and request a full alarm." He suddenly realized that Mike was already on the microphone, talking to LA He smiled to himself. Maybe he better watch out for his job. He jogged toward the garage to help his crew. ##### Mike climbed off the engine and went to the control panel. He quickly and efficiently adjusted the flow and pressure of the hoses, keeping a close eye on the gauges, checking the incoming water supply.  A high pitched scream spun him around. A middle-aged woman came tearing down the sidewalk, screaming in terror. She headed straight for the burning garage.  Mike ran to intercept her. He caught her around the middle, struggling to keep her from running into the building. "Ma'am, you can't go in there." He had his hands full, fear and terror gave her incredible strength. "No, no, let me go, I've got to get him out." Tears ran down her cheek, as she fought Mike with desperate determination. Mike was equally determined not to let her go. "Ma'am, if there is somebody in there, we will try to get him out." He grabbed the woman's chin and forced her to look at him. "You have to promise to stay here, so I can get help, do you understand?" Damn, they were wasting precious time, but he could not risk her running into the burning structure.  "You have to trust me." His blue eyes locked with her brown ones. "Please trust me O.K.?" Her struggles ceased as a strangled sob escaped her throat. She nodded.   "Please get my grandson, help him, oh lord, please help him, he's only 12 years old." Mike led her to the engine, yanking the HT out of his pocket.  "HT 51 this is engine 51." "Engine 51." "Cap, I have a report of a child trapped in the garage, exact location inside unknown." Mike heard Cap's sharp intake of breath. "Engine 51, over." Moments later Johnny and Roy came racing around the building toward the squad. Mike had their air tanks and a short ladder ready for them. After he helped them with the equipment, he ran to the engine. He pulled the microphone of its handle. "LA dispatch this is engine 51, what's the ETA of the our backup?" "Engine 51, this is engine 36. Our ETA is 2 minutes." "Engine 36, when you arrive have your engineer take over both engines. I need to help my crewmates. We have a victim trapped." "Engine 51." He turned to the woman. "Ma'am, what is stored in the garage?" The woman looked up. Suddenly she started shaking. "Oh God, there is paint and paint thinner in there. And packing crates. We just build it, oh no, Jason…." Mike motioned toward a woman standing closest to them. "Ma'am please take care of her." He grabbed two air tanks and ran behind the building. A backdoor lay splintered on the lawn. Cap, Marco and Chet were aiming the hose into the garage trying to give their paramedics the best cover they could. "Cap, there's paint and paint thinner in there, also packing crates." "Oh great." Cap saw the air tanks. "Let's get those on and get inside. We need to find the child and get out quick, before things start blowing up."  They donned their equipment, took hold of the hose Roy and Johnny had to abandon and made their way inside, Marco and Chet backing them up from outside. "John, Roy." Hollered the Cap. "Over here, by the window." Came the answering shout, muffled by the air mask.  Mike and Cap made their way to the window. "We have to make this real quick, there are flammable materials in here." Yelled Cap. There came the shout "I FOUND HIM." "All right let's get the hell out of here." "Right behind you Cap." They stumbled out of the building. Johnny held the still form of a child close to his chest. They ran to the squad to give the boy all the help they could give. The full alarm backup arrived and was surrounding and drowning the structure, which was now fully involved. Cap took his air tank off. "Mike, who's taking care of the engine?" Mike shot his captain a look. " asked 36's engineer to look after it Cap." Cap shook his head and grinned. "You want my job, you have to fight me for it, pal." ##### Roy and Johnny were loading the boy into an ambulance. "How is he?" Asked Mike "He's a very lucky little boy." Roy replied. "He had his jacket wrapped around his mouth and nose and kept close to the ground. That saved his life." He walked to the squad to follow Johnny and the ambulance.  Mike heaved a relieved sigh and turned to the job at hand. Nobody paid any attention to the brown Chevy as it was sitting a short distance away, nor did anybody pay any heed to it when it started up and moved away, into the direction it had come from. ##### Mike and Marco walked to the kitchen, veering sharply to the left at the last moment, when the combative tones of Johnny's and Chet's voices floated trough the door.  Marco let out a soft chuckle as they were walking to the back yard instead. Mike turned to his friend. "You find their constant bickering funny?" "Aw, come on amigo, just think of how boring it would be here if it weren't for them. I admit, that sometimes I would like to bind and gag them and stuff them under their beds, but most of the time they're pretty funny." Mike shook his head. "I like it quiet, you know." Marco gave him a big toothy grin. "Why Mike, I'm shocked! I never would've guessed." They both laughed and headed for the hoop. ##### "CHET!" The shout startled Mike out of his reverie. The shift had come to an end, and almost everybody was in the locker room, getting ready to leave the station. He was sitting on the bench, gazing into his locker.  "I THANK YOU TO KEEP YOUR MITTS OUT OF MY THINGS!" Johnny was outraged. "What are you talking about?" Chet walked over to Johnny, looking clueless. "Yeah, as if you didn't know. You messed around in my locker." Johnny huffed. "I did not Gage." Now Chet was getting angry too. "Besides, how could you even tell, look at this mess." He gestured towards Johnny's locker. Roy looked up, a puzzled look on his face. "You know what?" He turned to his locker. "It looks as if someone has pawed through my things too, nothing's missing though." "Yeah, same here." Said Mike quietly. Chet and Marco opened their own locker. "Hey, looks like I was hit too." Chet exclaimed. "Nothing's been taken here either." Marco frowned. "Mine too." He stroked his mustache as he sat on the bench next to Mike. "Who would want to come in here, rifle through our stuff and then leave without taken anything?" "Oh well, probably some kids, looking for a thrill. You know, a fire station can be pretty fascinating." Mike shrugged. Marco shot Mike a sideways glance. He couldn't put his finger on it but something his friend had said made him uncomfortable. ##### The man walked back and forth on the worn down floor of the rooming house, clutching a bottle of booze. He cackled. He could not believe how easy it was to walk into the station. Dumb jerks, everybody could come right in and nobody was any the wiser. No locks, no nothing. He shook his head. He regretted that he didn't have more time, but he didn't know when the engine or squad would return, he had to hurry. He remembered the photograph in his enemy's locker. He glared at the face next to Mike's. He almost forgot about that one. Well, when he was done with Stoker and the bitch he'd take care of the rest of them. He raised the bottle in silent salute. "Nobody messes with me, NOBODY." ##### Mike woke up refreshed and ready for the day. He and Smiley had breakfast, and then went to the open area at the end of the street. Smiley loved to run and play; he had turned into a pretty good Frisbee dog. "Good boy, Smiley, you're going to be a champion yet." The affection between man and dog was clearly visible. Returning home, he made sure his furry companion had enough food and water. He unfastened the flap in his back door, so his friend could have access to the yard. He went to his Bronco to meet his friends at Rampart, where they regularly visited the pediatric ward. They were part of a volunteer group, which spent time with the kids. They would read and play games, tell stories and have lunch with the children. Afterwards, while they were walking to the parking lot at Rampart they made plans to meet at Cap's for a barbecue the following weekend. Mike climbed into his car. He had another stop to make before returning home.                                                                   ##### The man's hand gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white. He watched the hated man pull to a stop in front of the large house. He ducked his head, even though he could not be seen in the parking lot among the other cars. He watched as the hated man walked to the door. The door opened and a smiling elderly woman appeared. She took the handsome man's arm and let him into the house. Hatred coursed through the silently watching figure in the brown car. He wanted to tear his enemy apart right then and there. He took a breath. No sense in giving himself away. He had bigger plans, but Stoker had to be taught a lesson. He turned the key and eased the car out of the lot.                                                                  ##### Mike pulled his car into the garage, wondering where Smiley was. Normally his friend would be jumping and barking, welcoming his master. He shook his head. 'Probably making my backyard save from gophers,' he thought as he walked to the back door, flipping on the floodlights, illuminating his yard. He stopped as if someone had hit him in the stomach.  "SMILEY." He ran to the still form of his friend, lying on the lawn. He fell to his knees, gathering Smiley into his arms, frantically checking or signs of life. Finding none, grief overwhelmed him. He cradled his companion in his arms; tears streaking down his face.  Marco whistled as he slammed his car door shut. He walked toward Mike's house to pick him up. They were invited to his cousin Cora's engagement party. He cut through the front yard to reach the back door.  The whistling died down as he felt something amiss. Smiley should have heard him by now. They always observed the same ritual. Marco would walk toward the back door; Smiley would run to him, bark happily and give generous kisses to his second best friend. He was puzzled as he turned the corner, stopping in disbelief at the scene that greeted his eyes. His stomach tightened in a hot cramp, his mind reeled. Mike turned his tearstained face to his best friend. "Marco……….." At that moment he felt a spasm pass through his companion's body. He barely noticed Marco dropping to his knees beside Smiley's prone figure. He still could not detect breathing or a heartbeat, but he had felt the movement. He was like a man possessed. He wrapped his hands around Smiley's muzzle and began to blow air into his nose. Marco was up in a flash. He ran to the telephone and pressed the autodial do Ed's number. Ed was Mike's vet and a very good friend of theirs. Ed barely got his 'hello' out when Marco began shouting into the phone. "Ed, this is Marco. Smiley is very sick, we can't find a heartbeat or feel breathing, but he is moving, please Ed, we need your help." Marco was frantic. The worry about Mike and Smiley nearly overwhelmed him. "MARCO, Marco, calm down. What is happening right now?" Ed tried to get a grip on the events. "Mike is blowing air into Smiley's nose. We need you Ed. Tell me what to do!" "O.K., here's what I want you to do. Ed signaled to his wife, a fellow vet, and his mother. "Keep the breathing up and get Smiley to me as fast as possible. Marco, I need you to keep your head. Mike and Smiley need you desperately right now, do you hear me? Drive carefully, if you get into an accident, it will only delay your getting here, and Smiley can't afford that." Marco nodded and suddenly realized that Ed could not see that. "Yes Ed, I'll do that." He ran back to his friends and told Mike what he had been instructed to do. "Keep breathing for him Mike, I'll get you both to Ed." Mike blindly followed Marco's instructions. He struggled to get to his feet keeping his grip on Smiley, while breathing into the dog's nose. Marco supported him as best as he could, guiding Mike to his car. The house was ablaze with lights. Marco braked to a stop. Ed and Angelina were waiting on the doorstep and came running immediately. Angelina wrestled Smiley away from Mike and continued breathing for him. She made a mad dash for the examination room, followed closely by Ed, Mike and Marco. She placed Smiley onto the table and placed a breathing mask over the animal's face. Mike and Marco hovered about the table. Mike wanted to scream at his friends. 'Do something, help him.' His mind was reeling. Ed looked at him, and realized that his friend had reached the end of his rope. He motioned to his mother, who was standing beside Angelina, ready to help her son and daughter-in-law in any way she could. Emma put her arms around the two worried men and led them out of the room, all the while talking to them in her soothing voice. "You know that my two vets will do everything they can. You trust them, don't you?" Mike started to speak, but found he had no voice and had to clear his throat. "Yes, yes I do trust them, I have to." Emma led them into their living quarters behind the clinic. She maneuvered them to the couch and sat them down. "I'll get some coffee for you, I'll be right back." She found it unnecessary to inform them that it would be decaf. The last thing either of them needed was added stimulation. Marco said a quick prayer, and turned to Mike. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed gently. The guesture told Mike, that his friend was there for him, and he was grateful for the support. "You know, I'll never forget how we met Smiley." Marco's mind drifted back two years in time to a lake in the mountains. He, his cousins Rosa and Rico, and Mike started early to get some good fishing in. They took a break for an early lunch, cooking their catch on the portable grill they brought along. They were telling stories, joking and laughing, when Rosa suddenly looked up from her plate. "Did you hear that?" she leaned toward the woods. "Hear what?" The rest of the group stopped talking and listened. There…. they heard something too. A small sound coming from the woods. It sounded weak and defeated. They got up and investigated. After a short walk they came upon a thick patch of undergrowth with several trees growing in the middle. "Shh". Mike motioned to his friends. There was the whimper again, seemingly right in front of them. He wasted no time and plunged into the thicket, his friends at his heels. The sight that greeted them was heartwrenching. Tied to one of the trees was a dog. By the looks a young dog, a mix between a German shepherd and a Border collie. Weak from lack of food and water, the animal was unable to stand. It looked up at the humans with sad eyes. A low whimpering moan escaped his mouth. The rope cut deep bleeding ruts into the dogs neck and he was covered with wounds, whether from attacking predators or evil humans was anybody's guess. Rosa let out a gasp and started crying. Rico swore under his breath. Marco was speechless at so much cruelty. 'Madre de Dios, how could anybody do this to another living being?' he thought. Mike, riveted in shock, let out his breath, he wasn't even aware he was holding. He removed his pocketknife and slowly advanced toward the tortured creature, talking nonsense in a soothing voice.  "Hey there, what a nice dog you are. Look at your face, it looks like you're wearing a big grin. Tell you what Smiley, lets cut you loose and see what we can do for you." Mike sank to his knees in front of the recently christened Smiley and extended his hands. The dog lifted his head and sniffed weakly, unable to muster enough strength for any other reaction. Mike cut the restraining rope and moved to sit in front of the animal. He kept his monologue up to soothe and calm the frightened dog. Marco and his cousins stepped forward and crouched in front of Smiley. The dog drew into himself, scared by the onslaught of sights and smells. Mike turned to his friends and asked them to bring food and water for the dog.  Marco left and did as he was bid. He returned with the water and the loaf of bread and lunchmeat they brought along, just in case. Mike looked at Marco. The water dish closely resembled his hubcap. Marco shrugged. "I'm sorry man, I didn't know what else to use." Mike grinned. "Good thinking buddy. "  They sat the water within reach of Smiley. The dog smelled the water. He eyed the humans wearily. He tentatively crawled forward, stopping to look at the humans. Nobody made a move toward him. He inched further, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements. He stopped instinctively at the point where the rope had stopped him before. Feeling no resistance he moved all the way to the water. Casting a worried look at the humans he put his head down and started drinking. There was still no movement from the humans. He relaxed slightly and drank the offering in thirsty gulps. Sated he moved back. Mike slowly reached back to the lunchmeat, to offer Smiley some food.  Rosa intervened. "No Mike, he hasn't eaten in a long time. He needs food that's not gonna upset his stomach." She opened the bread and broke pieces of it into the water Smiley had left, making a thick mush. Then she went back to her place and sat down. Mike pushed the hubcap closer to the dog. "Here's something to eat fellow, dig in."  Mike's smooth, mellow voice had a calming effect on the dog. 'Yeah' Marco thought 'just like on the rest of us'. Smiley inched forward again. By now he was more relaxed and not as frightened. He reached the makeshift bowl and lapped up the mush. He retreated again, keeping a weary eye on the humans. When none of them made a move toward him he relaxed even more. He kept his eyes on the talking one, listening to the smooth voice. Slowly the tall human extended his hand again. He stiffened. The hand stopped moving forward. He waited, but the hand made no move toward him. The hand was not raised; no angry voices reached his ears. He looked at the other humans. None of them made any threatening moves.  Slowly he inched forward on his belly, moving to the human with the calm voice. He reached the outstretched hand and laid his muzzle into it. Thus a great friendship was born. Smiley would always love Marco, Rosa and Rico, giving them special treatment, but the bulk of his love was for Mike. Marco snapped out of his reverie when he heard the door opening. Ed walked in, raking his fingers trough his dark hair. He took one look at Mike and sighed. "Mike.." Mike jumped up, as did Marco. "Ed, what happened to Smiley, I don't understand, how could he have collapsed like that. He isn't old enough for heart problems… Ed, tell me." Mike's voice rose in concern. Ed held his hands up. "Calm down, old friend. We gave him a heart stabilizing shot, and pumped his stomach. He's breathing on his own right now. Angelina, Mom and I will take turns watching over him. We don't know how much damage was done because of the lack of oxygen to his brain." Ed stood up. "I want you both to go home. We'll do whatever necessary for Smiley. " Mike was not convinced. He tried to protest. He looked at Ed and saw that his friend's dark complexion was covered with a sheen of sweat. He felt immediately guilty. "Ed, I…." Dark brown eyes connected with worried blue eyes. "Mike, you have to trust me now. Somehow Smiley ingested a muscle relaxant. I'll analyze his stomach contents in the morning to see how it got into him. You have to go home now, and get some rest." Marco followed the conversation with growing apprehension. He had a very bad feeling about all of this.  Angelina stuck her head in the door. "He's resting comfortably now." Her gaze fell to Mike. "I'll take you to him to say good night, and then you'll go home to get some sleep." There was no movement in the bushes. The man kept perfectly still. He blinked when the front door of the animal clinic opened. The floodlights of the clinic illuminated the sidewalk; his eyes needed to adjust to the sudden brightness. He saw two men emerge from the doorway. His eyes went to the tall man and he held his breath in anticipation. He swore inwardly when instead of being miserable and dejected, the man lifted his head and smiled at something his shorter companion said. 'You cold bastard' he thought, 'your dog dies and you smile'.  The men came closer and he heard snatches of conversation. His rage came back in full force, one sentence playing over and over in his head. 'Mike, Smiley is gonna be O.K., he is a strong dog and Ed and Angelina are the best vets in the county'. FAILED, he failed again. All the trouble he had to go through to steal the curare, lace the expensive T-bone with it, all for naught. Damn you Stoker that's it. I've had enough, now you die. He tried to calm himself down. He needed a cool head to finish his enemy off. Marco parked Mike's car in the garage and was following his friend into the house. He wanted to make sure that Mike was all right and trying to get some rest.  Mike sank into his favorite chair, rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. He looked up, directly into the concerned face of Marco. "Marco, please wipe that mother hen look off your face. I'm going to go to sleep in a little while, just let me get my head together." Another thought struck him. "Man, we missed Cora's party and I didn't even call and let her know. I hope she's not to mad at us." Marco shook his head. 'It shouldn't surprise me, that's just Mike. He's got monster worries himself, but is concerned about another person'.  "Don't sweat it buddy," he said with a slight smile "I called them and told them about our delay." His smile deepened at the memory. Rosa must've been standing right next to Cora, because he heard the phone being snatched from her, and Rosa's voice came through the receiver. It was all he could do to stop Rosa from dropping everything and flying down to Ed's.  He looked back at Mike. "They send their love and they'll pray for Smiley." Mike nodded, tears stinging in his eyes. He was touched by the support from Marco's family. "What happened Marco?" he wiped his eyes. "How could Smiley get hold of a muscle relaxant, I just don't understand." It was Marco's turn to sigh. Mike was a very intelligent and alert man, but when it came to deliberate evil he was absolutely clueless. Maybe because his own personality was geared towards helping, not harming.  To his mind there was only one way Smiley could get at poison, and that was through another hand. The uneasiness came back, full force. He looked toward his tired and worried friend. He wanted to talk to Mike and voice his worries, but was reluctant to add to his friend's misery. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ventured into the backyard. The floodlights shone brightly and gave light to the well-kept yard. Marco stepped onto the lawn. He didn't know what he was looking for, but kept his eyes trained on the ground. He stopped short at the raspberry bushes. The light barely reached there, but he made out a little heap of dirt directly in front of the prickly bushes. He kneeled down and started digging. His breath caught in surprise when he pulled a partially devoured T-bone steak out of the hole. He knew Mike never fed Smiley raw meat, and certainly not a T-bone steak. He rose, shook the dirt of the meat and headed for the kitchen. He placed the meat into a sandwich bag. 'Ed should see this' he thought, 'maybe it'll clear some of the mystery'. He went back into the living room. Mike was sitting exactly as he left him. "Mike," he said in a low voice, he didn't want to startle his friend. Mike looked up. "Mike, go get some sleep. We're on duty tomorrow and we need you at full speed. We depend on you for that amigo. Smiley is well looked after and Ed knows where to reach you if he needs to." Mike nodded and stood up. "Marco," he drew a deep breath and looked back at his friend. "Thank you Marco, I don't know what I would've done without you." Marco clapped his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Hey, you would've done the same for me. That's what friends are for."  He went to the kitchen to retrieve the bag with the meat and strode out the door.  A concerned frown on his forehead, he went to his car and drove home. ##### The crew was assembled for roll call. They heard about Smiley and were deeply concerned for Mike. They knew the friendly dog and his history with Mike. Roy was especially grateful for Smiley; he and Joanne owed him big time. His mind wandered back a few years. The DeSoto's were hosting a barbecue party for their friends. The party was in full swing; everybody had a good old time. His small children claimed Smiley the minute he showed up. After a while Roy had excused himself and went into his kitchen to get more plates. He had casually glanced out the window and his heart skipped a beat. The gate to the sidewalk stood wide open. Knowing his kids penchant for exploring he simply knew they had left the safety of their home.  His face had gone white as a ghost; he whirled around and ran right into Mike and Johnny who had followed him to offer their help. "What the ……" Johnny had looked totally confused. "Roy, what's wrong?" Mike had been alarmed at his friend's behavior. "Jamie and Jason…., they're gone, they've left the house." Roy pushed past his friends and ran out the door; Mike and Johnny close at his heels. "Roy," Mike tried to alleviate his friend's fears. "You know they were with Smiley. He'll protect them, they're O.K." The worried parent seemed oblivious to his friend's words. He had been focused on only one thing. His children. They rounded the corner at full speed. In front of them there was a sight to behold. A little ways ahead of them were the children and Smiley.   The kids walked happily down the sidewalk, while Smiley was in full Border collie/German shepherd mode. He walked around Jamie and Jason in tight circles, keeping them together and away from the street. The other pedestrians gave the threesome a wide berth. Nobody wanted to get in the big dog's way, seeing the fierce determination on his face. Roy came back to the present. He said a short prayer for Smiley, and looked over at Mike. He saw that Mike tried to keep a blank look on his face, but was failing miserably. Concern and worry where written all over his features. Johnny and Cap came into the bay simultaneously. Johnny skidded to stop at the engine as Cap walked in from his office. Johnny went to Mike's side and patted him gently on the shoulder. Mike looked at him, grateful for the support. Cap was all set to read Johnny the riot act, but decided to let it slide after a quick glance at his engineer. Instead he started the roll call in order to get it over with, so Mike could go to work and hopefully forget his worries for a little while. "Johnny, latrine, Roy, kitchen, Chet, dorm, Marco, hoses, Mike, apparatus bay." He barked out his orders for the day and turned toward his office. He then turned again and looked back at Mike.  "Mike, I would like to see you in my office in about an hour, O.K.?" Mike nodded in acknowledgment and went in search for a bucket and a mop. It was Mike's turn to cook, but the Cap figured, that the closer his engineer was to his beloved engine the better he would feel. Roy figured that for the reason he was stuck with kitchen duty and wholeheartedly supported his Captain's decision. Johnny made his way to the latrine, sadness in his heart. He thought about his horse and what he would feel if Firewalker were hurt. Johnny might be a goofball sometimes, testing his crewmates' patience sorely at one time or another, but he had the biggest heart of anybody they ever met. He could not stand to see a living being in pain without trying to do something about it. That was probably what made him such a great paramedic. Marco stood unmoving for a moment, turned and walked into the backyard of the station, where the hoses were waiting for him. He delivered the meat he found in Mike's backyard. Ed promised to call him as soon as he finished examining the steak. He halted his movements. Maybe he should tell Mike. He shook his head. Why worry Mike even more if he wasn't even sure about anything himself yet. Chet was in the dorm, stripping the beds. He thought about Mike and Smiley. Although a notorious prankster, he had a deep fondness for all his crewmates. From what Marco told them in the locker room this morning, he came to the conclusion that Smiley was deliberately hurt. His ire rose. 'Man, give me just five minutes with the slime ball who did this, just five minutes'. Hank was sitting in his office, lost in thought. He thought of Mike as a friend and was troubled by his sadness. He hoped to God Smiley would make it. 'Ed's the best, second only to Angelina, if Smiley has a chance, they're it'. He sighed and turned back to his paperwork only to be interrupted by the klaxon. 'Station 51, station 36, squad 10, traffic accident with injuries, Veterans Highway, take exit 44.' The man saw the bay doors open. The squad and the engine emerged, turning onto the road and disappearing down the street. He let out his breath. Now or never. He started his car and turned into the driveway of the station, a triumphant grin on his face. Hours later the men returned from their call, tired and disgusted. It was a horrendous mess. All it took was one drunk driver and the roads turned into a giant game of Russian roulette. The sight of the dead and injured would stay with them for some time to come. Even Johnny was uncharacteristically silent. He took every death hard, especially children's. Silently they went into the kitchen. They were tied up at the TA for four hours. A quick glance at the clock told Roy, that his lunch idea would now be dinner. He went to the fridge and pulled out the makings for sandwiches. Mike came over and helped him set the table. Roy gave him a quick grateful smile. Marco was full of indecision. Should he wait for Ed to call or should he call him instead. They were gone a long time; maybe Ed tried to reach him. The bad feeling he had, turned into a major worry. He stopped trying to convince himself that this was all a bad coincidence. Somebody had it in for Mike and he seemed to be the only one who knew about it. He scolded himself for giving Mike the promise to keep quiet. He made up his mind. He would call Ed, then talk to Mike and then to Cap. He turned to walk to the Captain's office to use the phone. "Hey pal, where are you goin'? Lunch is ready, come on, you need some sustenance." Cap gestured to the table. He wanted his men to sit and try to relax. He knew that after a horrible call like they just had, it was vital for the men to unwind. He looked at their faces and saw something closely resembling battle fatigue. Being the outstanding Captain he was, he looked after the well being of body and soul of his men. "Cap, I just need to make a quick phone call, I'll be right back, promise." Marco was not to be deterred from the course he had set for himself. He looked pleadingly at his Captain. "All right, but make it quick." Cap surrendered. "I'll come after you if it takes too long!" "Thanks Cap." Marco quickly went to the office. Just as he stretched his hand toward the phone, it rang. Startled Marco snatched it up "Station 51, firefighter Lopez speaking." "Ah, just the man I was looking for." Ed's voice came through the receiver. "Your hunch was right, the steak is liberally laced with curare. If Smiley had eaten all of it he would be dead now. But being not greedy and trying to save some of the meat, the first aid he got from Mike and the speed with which he was brought to us saved his life." "Ed, you mean…" Marco felt instantly better. "Yes Marco, Smiley is going to make it. It'll take a while for him to get back to normal but he's gonna get there. Let me speak to Mike, I want to give him the good news myself. See you later Marco." "Sure Ed hold on a sec. we'll be by after shift." He pushed the hold button and hurried into the kitchen, a big smile on his face. He knew it would give the news away, but for the life of him, he could not hold his joy in.  "Mike, the telephone call is for you." Mike looked at Marco. His heart leapt at the sight of the big grin on his friend's face. He covered the distance to the phone in two long strides, practically ripping the receiver off its cradle. Marco sat down, nodding to his friends. "It's Ed, with the best news I heard in a long time. Smiley's gonna make it." The tension drained from their faces. This was just what they needed, good news about a friend in distress. By the time Mike turned around they were all wearing big relieved smiles. Mike had tears of joy in his eyes; sheer happiness radiated from his face. "Smiley is not going to die. He'll have a long road to recovery, but he'll make it." His face darkened. "Somebody tried to poison him with curare. How could anybody do something like that? Smiley never hurt anybody in his life." Johnny was just about to take a big bite out of his sandwich. "Curare?" He was startled. "Somebody tried to kill him with curare?" He looked at Mike. "That stuff is pretty hard to get. Your somebody was pretty determined to harm Smiley." Johnny shook his head in disgust. Any one who tried to harm a defenseless creature was in his mind, lower that pond scum. Marco's headache returned with a vengeance. He was now more determined than ever to talk to Mike and the Cap. What Johnny said was true. Somebody was out to get Mike; not caring who else got harmed in the process. Smiley's close call was nothing but a try to hurt his friend. Combined with the blue car that almost ran Mike over, and the brown car that seemed to follow him out of the parking lot, this was serious. He knew Mike would try to talk him out of letting Cap know, but he was not to be stopped. Mike was in danger, even if he himself denied it. He swore to himself, that he would keep an eye on his friend, even if it took forever to find out who was after him. If Mike got angry, so be it. He would not stand by and let things happen, no way, no how. After a mostly uneventful afternoon, the crew assembled for dinner. In honor of the occasion, Roy cooked Mike's favorite, his country chicken and rice casserole. After dinner Marco approached Mike. "Hey buddy, I need to talk to you, let's go outside." "Sure." Mike shot Marco a puzzled look and followed him into the backyard. "Mike, I'm gonna tell Cap about the car that tried to run you down." He held up his hand, as Mike opened his mouth to speak.  "I know, I know, I promised not to, but I also said, that I would talk to Cap if anything else happened. Now don't you think that Smiley counts as 'something else'?" Mike was about to protest, but stopped short. "You think the two are related? To get me? But who would do such a thing? I've never done anything bad to anybody, you know that." "Yes I know that, so does everybody else. But there are enough nutcases out there that can turn even the slightest thing into a big obsession. It may not be a real thing to us, but it is to some. Hell, unintentionally cutting somebody off in traffic can get you murdered now-a-days." Marco placed his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Mike, other people need to know about this.  You can't make me carry this burden alone. Even if it is nothing, the more people know, the better." Mike took a deep breath. He was about to try to talk Marco out of his plan, but now he was not sure any longer. Smiley's plight shook him more than he realized. He also was aware that Marco was chewing on something all afternoon. Marco was right, it was not fair to have him carry this load by himself. If Marco had a bad feeling about this, he might as well give in. He trusted his friend's instincts. He had proven himself right time after time. "O.K., but let's both go to Cap. You're right, you shouldn't have to shoulder that all by yourself. I still think that it's nothing but coincidence, but I guess telling Cap can't hurt." He looked at his friend. "I'm sorry you worried so much on my behalf. I had no idea it was troubling you this much." He smiled, "let's go unburden ourselves, off to the Cap's office." He grabbed Marco by the shoulder and dragged him towards the office. Marco laughed, relief flooding his mind. Hank Stanley looked up as Mike stuck his head in the office door. "Cap, you got a minute?" Glad for the interruption, Hank pushed his paperwork aside. "Sure, come on in." He watched in astonishment as Marco appeared behind Mike, closing the door. "What can I do for you, need my help in anything?" "Well Cap, Marco has some notion……" Uncharacteristically rude, Marco jumped right into Mike's words. "Cap somebody is after Mike and you need to know the details." Nothing could've claimed Cap's full attention faster than those words. He felt very protective of his crew and woe to them that tried to hurt anyone of his men "Marco, you don't know that for sure, don't get Cap all riled up. After all, it could have been just a co……" Again he was rudely interrupted. Marco was not to be sidetracked, nor his fears belittled. "Cap, a couple of days ago a blue Ford tried to run Mike down, just as he was hoisting the flags. If he hadn't jumped as quick as he did, the car would've been right on top of him. Then at the end of shift, after we left the restaurant, a beat up brown Chevy followed Mike out of the parking lot." Marco drew a deep breath. "I can't be entirely sure, but I think I saw the car a couple more times. But like I said, I'm not sure." Mike frowned. He hadn't known about the Chevy, somehow Marco had neglected to tell him about that. "Marco, why didn't you tell me about the car?" Marco looked at him apologetically. "I didn't want to be a worrywart. 'Till Smiley got hurt, I wasn't at all sure if you or I was right." Marco turned back to Hank, whose attention was riveted on his firefighter. "Then Smiley got hurt. He could've died. Somebody tried to poison him with a steak. I found it in Mike's backyard and gave it to Ed to analyze. There was enough curare in the meat to kill Smiley. In my opinion someone was out to hurt Mike and get the dog out of the way at the same time." He paused again. "What steak?" Mike was confused. He didn't know anything about a steak either. Apparently Marco had kept a whole lot of things to himself, and Mike felt slightly irked. "Sorry Mike," Marco apologized again. "I didn't want it to be true. I was hoping the meat was just a gift from an overeager neighbor, or a friend of Smiley's." He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. He gave Mike a quick smile. "I also didn't want to be accused of being a mother hen." Mike shook his head, but returned the smile. He was never able to stay mad at Marco, and he couldn't now. Marco tried to handle things in his friend's best interest, and Mike couldn't fault him for that. Hank digested this bothersome information. "Marco, did you see the driver of the Chevy?" He felt as Marco did. Could all be a nasty coincidence, but better safe than sorry. "I can do you much better than that." Marco reached for his wallet. He drew the note with the license number out and handed it to Hank. "For some reason I wrote the number down. The car made me uncomfortable." He continued. "The driver was a white man with a beard, kinda scruffy looking. I didn't see much of him, the car windows were dirty and the sun reflected off them too." Hank turned to his engineer. "Mike, I want the rest of the guys to know about this. Wait, wait." He held up his hands, as Mike was about to protest. "If someone is after you, the more eyes watching out for you the better." He looked directly into Mike's eyes. "Mike, you are a part of us, you're family. We want to protect you from harm. If this turns out to be nothing, nothing is lost. If it is a bad situation we need to be prepared. I'm also gonna call Vince and give him the license number. It may clear up some questions." He smiled at Mike. "We just don't want anything to happen to you, we like you. Besides we would have to get used to another engineer, and I for one don't have the energy for that." Mike grinned. "Thanks a lot Cap. You sure know how to cheer a fellow up." Hank grinned back. "Yeah, I'm gifted that way. You both go in the kitchen. I'm gonna call Vince, and meet you there." He slapped Marco on the back. "Thanks for being on the ball, pal." Marco was relieved beyond words. "No problem Cap. Like you said, it would be a pain in the neck to have to break in a new engineer. Might as well keep the old one." Mike threw up his hands in mock hurt. "Et tu Marco?" Marco gave Mike a mischievous grin. "Come on amigo, let's go." As the door closed, Hank reached for the telephone. Mike and Marco went to the kitchen, stopping at the sound of another John/Chet argument. "Take a deep breath and jump right in Marco. Maybe it won't be that bad. And remember, Roy's in there too. He might need a little rescuing himself." Mike grinned. "All right, here goes nothing." Marco stepped into the doorway and through to the kitchen, followed by his friend. Roy was there all right and in dire need of rescuing. He looked up at Mike and Marco with pleading eyes. Mike took pity and jumped right in. "Hey Roy, I found a great article in a magazine about white water rafting. I know you're interested in that. Let me find the mag. He went to the couch and retrieved the magazine from under Henry. He brought it over to the table and he and Marco sat next to Roy. Soon they were engrossed in a discussion about white water rafting. Even Johnny and Chet forgot their inane argument and joined them. Hank walked into the kitchen and looked at his crew. They were the best men he ever had the privilege of working with and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to any one of them.  He cleared his throat to get their attention. Five pairs of eyes looked up at him. He nodded at Mike and Marco. "O.K. men. I've got something to tell you." He sat down and proceeded to share Mike's predicament. "It could be nothing, but on the other hand, it could be dangerous." He looked at each of his men in turn. "I want you all to keep your eyes open and report anything out of the ordinary, O.K." Chet let his breath out in a whooshing sound. "How long exactly were you two gonna keep your little secret?" "Now wait a minute." Mike tried to calm Chet down. "We aren't even sure that there is something to this. Don't blow this out of proportion." "Yeah right, all these things are nothing but strange little coincidences, nothing to worry about, right?" Johnny was outraged. He looked at his friend. "Mike, I swear, sometimes I wonder about you. How can such an intelligent man be so oblivious to the nasty, dirty realities out there?" "Now wait a minute Johnny." Mike was shocked at the anger coming from his friends. "It could be just that. Nothing but a coincidence. I didn't want to worry you guys. It's not Marco's fault, I practically twisted his arm to keep quiet." "Mike." Roy's quiet voice cut off Johnny's angry reply. "Don't you think that this is a little too much to be just a coincidence? I mean, these are three instances, where Marco was alarmed enough to get extremely worried. We all know that Marco does not have a penchant to over dramatize. Believe it or not, you matter a great deal to us, and we don't want anything to happen to you." "Yeah, ya big dummy." Chet chimed in. "Where else would I go to vent, if not to you, ya big dummy." Genuine worry and concern shone out of his eyes, startling everybody but one. "All right, all right, calm down everybody." Hank wanted to put an end to the unpleasantness. "We need to talk…" The phone cut through his words. He jumped and grabbed the receiver. "Hello Vince, what's the word?" He listened. He motioned to Johnny to bring him paper and pen. "Hold on Vince, I'm gonna get something to write this down." He positioned the paper and started writing. "Thanks Vince, I owe you one." He turned back to the group. "Mike, Vince got a hit with the number. It seems, that the car is registered to a Preston Carmichael, the name ring a bell?" He looked up. All the color had drained out of Mike's face. He had the edge of the table in a death grip. His crewmates forgot their anger and jumped up to rush to their stricken friend. Hank muscled his way through. He placed his hand on Mike's shoulder, while Marco desperately tried to catch his breath. The name had jolted him. He now knew, that Mike was in terrible danger.  ##### The man went trough the intersection, when he saw the patrol car rolling to a stop in front of the boarding house. Momentary panic struck him. He calmed down. There was nothing in that room that he needed. He would just move on. He would have to change cars and lay low for a while. No matter, the bitch could wait. He had all the time in the world. His enemy would soon be dead. He would have to put the bitch on the back burner for now, but there were others who needed to be taught a lesson. He grinned. Bye-bye Stoker. Vince Howard pounded on the door. There was no answer. He had no legal reason to force his way into the room. Frustration made his shoulders sag. A raspy voice reached his ears. "Hey, what's going on up there?" He heard footsteps on the stairs, accompanied by panting. A greasy looking man came into his view. The smell made him step backwards. "Who are you?" "I'm the super here. Why are you trying to pound the door down?" The dirty little man raised his eyebrows. Vince eyed the man suspiciously. "We're trying to locate a witness, and this is his last known address." "Witness eh?" the man looked at Vince sarcastically. "Well, you came to the right place for 'witnesses'. I can unlock the door for ye, ya know." The man scratched his belly. "I have no search warrant, I can't go in there." Vince replied with a shrug. "Yeah, ye can go in there. The bum owes a full month rent. That makes the room mine." The super produced a key and proceeded to unlock the door. Vince was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He followed the little guy into the room. He was startled by the state the room was in. Empty gin bottles littered the room. Unwashed clothing was everywhere filling the room with a sour stench. Cockroaches scurried for cover. He restrained himself from vocalizing his disgust. He was a professional after all. He made a cursory examination of the room. It yielded nothing but a photograph. He looked closer at it. Yes, it was Mike Stoker and two women. The unsettling aspect of the picture was the X's drawn through all three faces. Vince shuddered and turned to the super. "I'm going to seal this place for now. Don't go in here. We'll let you know when the room is free to rent to the next guy, O.K.?" The greasy man made a face. "That's what you get for helping the fuzz. Nothing but trouble." He scratched his arm. Vince wanted nothing more than to get away from the man and the place. "Look, it won't take that long. They probably are in and out in a couple of hours. Just hang in there." ##### Hank turned Mike around and forced him face to face. "Mike, for heavens sake, what's going on?" Roy had grabbed Marco and sat him on to the couch. "Marco, Mike, talk to us, talk to us now." Johnny and Chet were equally frantic.  All knew that something was terribly wrong, and they wanted answers, right now. ##### The pretty brown haired woman with the sad eyes shuddered. She had an uneasy feeling for days now. Something was wrong; she just knew it. She looked around the airy, beautiful room, but could find no comfort. She went to the window. Just then a brown Chevy passed the house. She jumped back as if hit with an electrical charge. Oh God no. He found her; her nightmare was beginning anew. Sobbing, she sank to the floor. ##### Vince walked into the station, calling out for his friends. He received no answer, but he could hear voices from the kitchen. He found the frantic fireman, desperately trying to get Mike and Marco to talk. He pulled up a chair, sat and joined the fracas. "Hold on everybody, everyone just calm down." His voice startled the men and they turned to him. "You all sit down. Mike, Marco take a deep breath and start from anywhere you want. We just pick up from there." His calm professional demeanor settled the men down a little. Mike looked up at Vince and cleared his throat. "Macro and I went to Wyoming a couple of months ago to visit my family." Mike's sister and some cousins lived in a mid-sized town in that state." Mike continued his story. Mike, Marco, his sister Hannah and some friends were sitting on the back porch enjoying a quiet evening. They were having a few drinks and were sharing stories and friendly banter. Suddenly their nice evening was shattered by the arrival of an uninvited guest.  A badly hurt woman came half running, half crawling toward them. "Help me please, oh God, help me!" She fell to her knees and sank to the ground. They all jumped up, and were running to the woman's side.  Mike gently turned her around and had to stifle a gasp. Her wounds were from a horrible beating. Her face was a bruised and bloody mess. Her left arm was broken. From the sound of her breathing she also suffered cracked ribs.  Neither Mike nor Marco were paramedics but they knew the woman needed immediate medical attention. "Call 911 Hannah." Mike tried to comfort the poor woman.  Marco snagged the napkins from the table and soaked them in water. He gently wiped the woman's face in an effort to stop the blood flowing from a nasty gash in her forehead from running into her eyes.   Hannah knelt by the woman's right side and talked to her in a soothing, calming voice.  Mike was at her left trying to keep the broken arm immobilized. Finally the paramedics arrived. They went to work on the injured woman, splinting the arm and establishing IVs. They were ready to put her into the ambulance when the woman started crying. "No, no, don't leave me." She looked at Mike and Hannah, her eyes begging. Neither Mike nor Hannah had it in them to leave a person in need. Hannah went to the woman. "We will be with you at the hospital. We'll follow the ambulance in my car, please calm down, O.K." Mike went to the porch. "Sorry Marco, but I promised." Marco nodded, knowing he would've done the exact same thing. "S'okay Mike, if I don't see you again tonight, I'll see you next week at home."  Marco planned to spend the rest of his time off with his family in LA and was leaving in the morning. Mike smiled at his friend and went to his sister's car. Mike and Hannah spent the rest of the night in the hospital with the woman. Her name was Claire Carmichael and the one who hurt her so badly was her husband Preston.  They listened to a sickening tale of escalating abuse. The reason she was beaten within an inch of her life? She dared to spend the afternoon with a woman friend in the local library. He claimed he loved her, and if she loved him she wouldn't need to spend time with anybody else. He systematically isolated her from family and friends. Her transgression sent him into a rage. She was his and his alone to do with as he pleased. She was his prized possession, his, to have and to hold, till death did them part. As with any battered woman, fear and a broken spirit held her by his side. The last beating however, convinced her, that it was time to get away. She was dead either way, the classic 'damned if you do, damned if you don't.' situation. Mike and Hannah spend the rest of the week getting Claire into a battered woman's shelter in LA.  Claire pressed assault and battery charges; the DA added attempted murder. A warrant for Preston Carmichael's arrest was issued. Mike escorted Claire to the train that would take her to the airport. She smiled and hugged him. She stepped toward the train, turned and hugged him again. "Tell Hannah thank you." She smiled softly. "I'm glad I collapsed in your yard. Thanks for all the help. Will you and Marco come and visit me?" "You bet. And don't hesitate to call if you need us." Claire stiffened. Her eyes widened in terror. Over Mike's shoulder she saw her husband approaching. The blood drained from her face. Mike thought she would faint. He pushed her to the train. "Get in, don't worry, I'll stop him."  He turned to face Carmichael.  But like with any coward the man had no wish to tangle with the tall muscular fireman. He stopped and looked at Mike. "I'll get you and the bitch. You'll see.  Nobody takes what's mine. Man, you'll be so sorry you messed with me!" Mike took a step toward the man.  Carmichael turned and fled. Mike went to the phone to call the police. That man belonged in a cell; hopefully someone would throw away the key. Mike looked at his friends. "The last thing I heard was that the Fredmont PD picked him up and turned him over to the hospital for psychiatric examination." "Man, and a thing like this just slipped your mind?" Johnny, as usual, voiced his opinions. "That is a major thing, the guy is seriously nuts." Mike turned to face him. "I thought he was safely locked away. Besides who would've thought he would go and do anything this crazy." Mike squirmed under his friend's eyes. He tried again. "I honestly didn't think he would make good on his threats. He's just your basic coward." Vince stood up. "Hank I need to use your phone. I'm going to call Wyoming. Let's see what the Fredmont PD has to say about this." He looked at the group. "You know, Mike is right, Carmichael should still be locked up, especially with attempted murder charges hanging over him."  He turned and left the kitchen. Hank shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed Mike with a glare. "Mike, this situation is one of the most dangerous there is. Batterers don't want to give their victim up. That coupled with the man's deranged mental state can spell disaster." "Cap…" that's as far as Mike got. "Hold it Mike." Cap wasn't finished yet. "Everyday you read about women who leave their husbands because of violence, and most of the time the danger gets worse. Domination is the name of the game and a victim escaping is something these batterers can not take." He took a deep breath. "That he is a coward is obvious. All these things were sneak attacks; he doesn't want a fair fight, he wants you hurt or worse." "Hannah!" Mike jumped up as if struck. He made a mad dash for the door. He had to call his sister and find out if she was okay. Had he thought this out logically, he would have realized that he would have been notified had anything happened. But the past events wiped logical thought right off his mind. He barreled into Vince, who had finished his call and was returning.  "Whoa friend." Vince reached out and steadied the engineer. Mike tried to push past him. "I gotta call Hannah." Vince took him by the shoulders and steered him back to the table. "Your sister is fine. The police in Fredmont have been keeping an eye on her." He pushed Mike into a chair. Six expectant faces looked at him. "Well, seems like Carmichael escaped from the psycho-ward about two month ago. He used a makeshift knife and seriously injured a nurse during his escape." Vince took off his helmet and rubbed his forehead. He looked around him staring at a most captive audience; they were hanging on his every word. "Fredmont PD notified LA about the possibility of Carmichael showing up here. He made some very heavy threats against his wife and the 'damn firefighter who took her away from him'. He swore to get his revenge, even if it was the last thing he did." He looked directly at Mike. "Somebody should have warned you and Claire Carmichael, but it seems there was foul up. Crockett sent the request to notify you and her to the station 6 patrol unit, which is us. Unfortunately the request ended up in Santa Rosa County. Santa Rosa is still looking for fireman Mike Stoker to date. Apparently nobody thought of contacting Crockett to confirm."  He smiled apologetically at Mike. "I called Crockett. He was looking for me. Seems like my call to Motor Vehicle about the license number threw up a whole bunch of red flags. They also had a call from the director of the House of Ruth. Claire Carmichael spotted her husband driving down the street in front of the shelter. She is in bad mental shape.  They have her under a 24 hour suicide watch." "Oh no." Mike put his head into his hands. "Poor Claire, will this crap ever end for her?" Marco gasped. Every eye fell on him. "Mike, do you suppose he knows about Peter?" Mike looked up, horrified. "Vince, Claire met a lab tech at Rampart when they took her there for a follow up after she arrived from Wyoming. His name's Peter Milbourn. He works in the forensics lab.  They've gotten pretty close. Peter knows about her situation, but I doubt he knows Carmichael's here." He looked at Vince imploringly. "Peter's got to be warned. He is a nice, gentle man and would be no match for Carmichael." Vince was already up and going back to the office. "Sorry for the mess Cap. I didn't know it would come to all this." Mike rubbed his eyes. "Let me ask you something." Roy leaned toward Mike. "If you knew all this would happen, would you still have helped Claire?" Mike stared at Roy. He wondered where this silly question had come from. "Of course I would. You don't think I'd hand Claire back to that animal, do you?" He looked around him into five smiling faces. "What?" "Nothing, it's just the answer we all expected." Cap leaned back in his chair. "Well, seems to me, we now have to figure out a way to keep you safe until they find this guy." Vince returned from the office.  "A unit has been dispatched to Rampart. They'll warn Peter Milbourn, so he can be on the look out should Carmichael show up." He continued. "Crockett sent crime scene out to the boarding house. Looks like he got wise somehow and abandoned the room. They found a glass vial that held curare. That clears up the theft report from Carson City Community College two weeks ago. The night watchman was slugged on the head and his keys stolen. He suffered a concussion and is still not back at work."   Vince sighed. "Anyway, three of their labs were raided, but all that was taken was a vial of curare and a vial of cyanide." He looked Mike in the eyes. "I strongly suggest, that you pitch every item of food in your house. Don't eat or drink anything that you have in your house. Even a closed or sealed container isn't safe." Vince paused and waited for Mike's promise. He picked up his report after receiving a confirming nod, not only from Mike, but all six men.  "What they also found was a spiral notebook. He kept a diary of some sort. In it he also describes the most sickening fantasies of pain, suffering and death." He looked at Mike. "You and Claire Carmichael are the featured stars of his script." "Damn it." Chet couldn't take anymore of this. He jumped out of his chair with such force, that it fell over backward. His sudden exclamation and movement startled everybody in the room. "Are you telling us, that there is this seriously crazy nut running around out there and the cops can't do nothing about him?" Chet leaned forward, palms down on the table, getting into Vince's face. "Chet." Cap and Vince said simultaneously. Vince waived Hank off. "It's okay Hank, I understand. He's worried about Mike." He looked back at the enraged firefighter. "Chet, you have to understand. The sheer size of LA County makes it easy for anybody to go underground. I would like nothing more than to be able to find this slime ball, but I don't know where to look. We have some clues, but that's all we got for now. Claire is being looked after at the House of Ruth; their security is exceptionally tight, because it has to be. It's a battered woman shelter after all.  As for Mike, we need to take any precaution we can. If I had my way, I would lock him away into a safe place until we get our hands on Carmichael, but I don't think he would let me do that." "Darn right I wouldn't." Came a mumbled reply from Mike's direction. Vince shot him a fleeting grin and continued. "So now we have to put our heads together and get a plan going on how to keep Mike safe." "Mike could move in with Joanne and m…" Roy barely had the words out, when Mike interrupted him. "No way, Roy, bad idea, very bad idea. You have a family to think of. He would just love to get his hands on Joanne or God forbid, Jamie or Jason." "Right, that's why he is staying with me." Johnny folded his arms across his chest. "Oh good, now you're completely safe Mike. You're protected by Johnny 'the walking disaster area'." Chet snorted derisively. "Mike, you stay with me, the two of us can take care of this slime ball." "Oh yeah?" Johnny glared at Chet. "Say's who?" "Says me chump." Hank threw up his hands, Roy rolled his eyes. It was no a proven fact, that Johnny and Chet could get into a stupid argument at any given time and under any circumstances. Marco slipped out of the room unnoticed and was now returning.  "Mike is staying with my family in LA. I just got off the phone with Rico. He'll alert the whole neighborhood. Mike, you'll have a whole community looking out for you."  He looked at Vince. "Hell, the Nightstalker couldn't get by us, we'll get Carmichael too." Vince nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea, the more eyes the better." Marco turned to Mike again. "After we see Smiley, Rico and Fernando are gonna meet us at your place. You can pack some things and then you go with them." Mike opened his mouth to protest, but after a look into Marco's face thought better of it. He'd better agree or he would end up tied and gagged and tossed into Rico's pick up.  All right, he knew when he was whipped. Besides, it would be nice to stay with Marco's folks. He liked them very much, and they liked him. He'd probably gain 20 pounds though. He never saw so many enthusiastic cooks as there were in Marco's family. He was, however, concerned about their safety. Marco saw the expression in his friend's face and knew what he was thinking.  "Mike, I told them all about the potential danger. They agree with me. You can't stay in your house all by yourself. Your house is too isolated and empty a lot of times. The creep has too many chances to sabotage it. Rico's place is never empty. If Carmichael comes into the neighborhood, he'll stick out like a sore thumb. Everybody knows each other there." "Great." Hank slapped his hands onto the table, getting everybody's undivided attention. "Now that that's settled, let's move on." "Look's like I didn't get much say in this," Mike mumbled. "That's right Pal, you got a problem with that?" Hank dared his engineer to disagree. "No, no, I don't have a problem with that." Mike surrendered. "Now as to the station," Vince wanted every aspect covered. "I know you guys are not real careful about locking up, but you need to do it now.  Somehow I don't see this guy being considerate of anybody else's well being. He's perfectly capable of hurting all of you if that gets him to Mike. Now…" "The lockers." Johnny exclaimed. He looked at Chet and Marco. "Remember when we all thought somebody had been messing in the lockers?" He looked at Roy. "Roy, when was that? Wasn't that just a short time ago?" "Yeah, yeah I remember." Roy frowned, trying to recall when that happened. "It was just before Smiley was hurt, hey yeah, that's it, a short time before Smiley got poisoned." "Somebody better enlighten me." Vince frowned. "What happened in the lockers?" "Yeah, I would like to hear that too." Hank put in. "Well, it was nothing really. One day, when we were changing we noticed that all of out lockers had been pawed through. Since nothing was missing, we didn't give it much thought." Roy shrugged. "I guess hindsight is 20/20." Vince shook his head. "I swear, you guys would give the secret service apoplexy." He stood up. "When you're on a call, keep your eyes open, and keep an eye on Mike as well. I'm going back to the station. Crockett is meeting me in about half an hour. I'll keep you informed." He took his helmet and put it on. "Bye guys, and Mike, stay safe. I would really hate it if something happened to you." After seeing Vince out, Hank returned to the kitchen. He walked into a lively discussion.  "All right, lets hit the sack. Hopefully we'll get through the shift without too much trouble and tomorrow Mike will move in with Rico." He looked at his men. "Good night people… now!" Their luck held. The squad was toned out for a minor call, the engine stayed put. They changed into their civvies and headed out, but not before Mike listened to a million safety tips and lectures about crazy idiots. When the last of his friends left Mike let out a sigh of relief. "Come on Marco, lets see Smiley." The thought of seeing his companion soon made him very happy. "Okay, I'll follow you in my car." Marco grinned at his friend. "Rico tells me that Esme is cooking up a storm for lunch." "Oh man, there goes my waistline." Laughing, the two friends went to their cars.  Marco followed Mike's bronco out of the parking lot. He smiled to himself. Mike would be safe with his people. He was glad, that he stood his ground and insisted on letting Cap know,  the things that had come to light… He shook his head and frowned.  He decided to let go of the somber thoughts and look forward to seeing Smiley.  Their two-car convoy reached the intersection and stopped at the red light. Mike grinned into the rearview mirror and waved at his friend.  'Oh, yeah, Mike is definitely very happy'.  Marco chuckled. They turned left to get to the road that would lead them to Ed and Anglina's clinic. 'Darn, must be their lucky day, they were catching all the red lights'.  Mike came to another stop, and looked at the brake pedal. The resistance was wrong. He had the pedal half way to the floor. That shouldn't be.  He shrugged. Better have that looked at, the sooner the better. He gritted his teeth at the thought of the added expense. They came to a steep incline. Ed's clinic was located at the bottom.  Soon he would see his faithful friend. Mike smiled. 'Mike, what the hell are you doing?' Marco watched as his friend's car steadily picked up speed. 'We're almost there, don't get reckless'. He looked into Mike's car and became aware of his frantic gestures. The realization hit him with such force, he almost felt physical pain. Mike's car was out of control… the maniac had messed with his friend's car. "NOOOOOOO!!!" Marco wasn't even aware that he screamed out loud. He frantically tried to keep up with Mike, blowing his horn to warn the other drivers. A stream of prayers fell from his lips. 'Madre de Dios, please don't let anything happen to him, don't let the bastard win, por favore, let Mike live.' He didn't look at his speedometer; he didn't want to know. Knowing that they were going way to fast was enough. Mike concentrated on the road. He blocked all other thoughts out. His excellent driving skills aided him greatly in avoiding other cars, and keeping the vehicle upright. If only he could make it to the vacant lot at the corner he could stop this car. The lot was large and overgrown. He could stop the out of control car there, he was sure about that. He almost made it. Marco watched in horror as the wheels hit the ditch and the vehicle rolled over twice before coming to rest on the passenger side. He came to a screeching halt and jumped out of his car. He stumbled through the high grass and weeds. There was only one object in his mind. Mikes car. He saw movement in his peripheral vision. Someone was coming toward the wrecked car from the other side. It seemed to take forever to reach the wreck. Once there he realized, that he could not see Mike, because of the vehicles height. He raced to the windshield. It was cracked and spider webbed, but he could make out his friend. Mike was unconscious, being held up by his seat belt.  Marco spun around and attempted to hoist himself onto the car. He wanted to get Mike out; he wanted him out NOW.  Suddenly two hands held him and turned him around. His eyes focused and he recognized Ed. "Marco what in blazes do you think you're doing?" Ed realized that he was yelling at his friend and forced himself to calm down. Marco was beside himself, he had do keep his head and stop Marco from doing anything foolish.  "Marco," he repeated in a calmer voice, "you can't climb up there. See how Mike is hanging in his belt?" Ed breathed in deeply and continued. "We don't want the car to move, he could have a neck or spinal injury. Angelina has called 911.  Help will be here very soon." Ed tried to shake the memory of what he saw. He had taken a break from his busy schedule and was standing on his front porch to wait for Mike and Marco. He saw a sports vehicle barreling down the incline, a smaller car following, blowing his horn. No sooner had he shaken his head about stupid drivers, than he recognized the bronco.  He knew instantly, that something was terribly wrong. He watched with unbelieving eyes as Mike's car took a left turn toward the overgrown lot. He knew the turn was too sharp. At that moment the tires hit the ditch and the car started rolling. He screamed into his house. "Call 911, Mike's had an accident; he's in the lot, and call 911." He barely heard Angelina's reply, he was off and running. He was still holding on to Marco, trying to keep Marco sane. The fireman was in no shape to think logically.  He was driven by pure emotion. He had to keep steady for both of them.  He heard the approaching sirens and let out a sigh of relief. They came in record time. The squad came to a stop; the engine right behind them. The paramedics jumped out and grabbed their gear, before running to the wreck. The stenciled 51 on their helmets penetrated Marco's mind. He looked closer and recognized Charlie Dwyer and Frank Stanberg from B-shift. The sight of Marco standing by the familiar car caught both paramedics by surprise. Charlie flinched and Frank's breath caught. The engine crew, from their higher perch, already recognized the situation.  Captain Thomas Samuelsen was running toward the wreck.  He turned his head and barked "inch and a half, oxygen, pry bar, K-12" over his shoulder. Larry Collins, B-shifts engineer came flying, followed closely by Jeff  Windeman and Jon Ho Kim. The paramedics were at the windshield, trying to assess the situation.   "Cap," Charlie turned to his Captain. "We need to get the glass out of the way. We need to get him out by the windshield. The way the car is wrecked by the passenger side, with the roof partially caved in, it could start rolling if we climb up, and that wouldn't do Mike any good at all. I can't smell any gas, thank God for small favors." Tom Samuelsen nodded. He already saw the damage and concurred with Charlie.   He slipped his turn out coat off and handed it to his paramedic. "Lets get the glass off. Start at the furthest point from Mike and cover him with the coat as soon as you can."  He turned and motioned to his men. "Larry, bring the pry bar over here. Jeff, help them.  Jon, keep the hose on the car just in case. All right, let's get Mike out!"  He looked at Marco and Ed. He realized that Marco was about to collapse. The last thing he needed was having to tend to Marco while they were tying to extricate Mike. "Okay Marco, get some blankets out of the squad. Mike will need them." Grateful for something to do, Marco ran to the squad. He grabbed the blankets and willed his hands to stop shaking. He leaned his head against the cold metal and took deep breaths, then rushed back to the accident site. The men worked fast. Mike was on a backboard on the ground, wearing a c-collar. Charlie was getting Mike's vitals; Frank was on the bio phone. He established contact and was talking to Rampart.  "The BP is 70/50, respiration's 12 and shallow, pulse 125 and weak. Victim's lower abdominal area is growing rigid, bruising starting.  He has fractured his left fibula and left humerus. He also has a large bump on his forehead under the hairline. No fluids in nose and ears. Rals on the left side. He has trouble breathing. Victim is unconscious. Splints are being placed right now. Doc, its Mike Stoker." Three stunned people at Rampart looked at each other. They hated calls like that. They gave every patient their all, they were the best in the county, but working on a good friend was something else entirely. Dixie swallowed hard. Kel frowned; he didn't like the growing rigidity. It told of internal injuries. "Fifty one, start bilateral IV's normal saline and lactated ringers wide open, keep neck and spine immobilized, careful in transport.  The breathing problem sounds like broken ribs.  Intubate if necessary, transport immediately." He looked at his colleagues. "Dix, get 4 ready, Joe, get OR 1 ready, Look's like Mike's not going to have a lot of time."  He sighed, he hoped the ambulance would get here quickly. He picked up the phone and dialed. "Sarah, get me 6 units of B negative, whole, one to Treatment 4, the rest to OR 1."  He walked to his office, his mind occupied by thoughts of his injured friend. 'Why is it so dark, where in blazes am I?' He heard voices, familiar voices, but he couldn't quite place them. The darkness receded and with it came a sharp pain. The pain seemed to be everywhere. His head, stomach arm and leg hurt. He tried to move, but several hands were suddenly on him, holding him fast. "Hey amigo, don't move, you're hurt, you need to be still." 'Marco?' He tried to open his eyes. The sudden brightness added to his pain. He quickly closed them and tried again, slower this time. A familiar face swam into focus. "Marco?" his voice sounded strange to him. "What…happened…Marco?"  He looked around and saw Cap Samuelsen, Charlie, Frank, Larry, Jeff and Jon. 'B-shift? Was he at the station?' Damn, if he could only remember what happened. "Marco?" He was becoming agitated. "I'm here amigo. You have to stay calm. You were in an accident and you're hurt. We're gonna get you into the ambulance now. Rampart's waiting." Marco smiled, trying to reassure his friend. "You have to be a good boy and do what Charlie tells you. I'll be right behind you and meet you at Rampart, okay?" "I'm…a…mess…M...Marco." Mike realized that he had trouble breathing. "CCCan't breathe…Marco." Darkness swallowed him up again. "Respiratory arrest." Charlie shoved Marco aside and tilted Mike's head back. Frank snatched the intubation gear and was getting ready to intubate. Marco turned away, tears in his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch. 'Please Mike, hang in there, please'. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw Ed through his stinging eyes. Ed smiled reassuringly at his friend. "Mike's gonna be okay; he's strong and healthy.  He'll make it." Ed wished with all his heart, that his words would come true. "How did this happen? Mike is such a careful driver, did the car have a defect?" Marco looked at Ed. Of course, Ed didn't know. He proceeded to tell Ed the whole story. Tom Samuelsen and Larry Collins were standing close by and listened in. When Marco was finished, the men couldn't have been more stunned if they were hit with a sledgehammer. "I…" It came out as a croak. Cap Samuelsen cleared his throat and tried again. "I better call dispatch. They have to call the cops." He walked to the engine. The paramedics and ambulance attendants placed Mike into the waiting emergency vehicle. Marco started to follow, determined to get into his car and drive after the ambulance.  He felt resistance. Cap Samuelsen and Ed were holding him back. "Marco…." Ed started Marco glared at his friend. "Nobody is gonna make me stay behind, Mike needs me, I'm going!" "Just hold on there Marco." Thomas Samuelsen jumped in, knowing that Marco was about to get very angry. "Of course you're going to Rampart, but you're not driving. Jon will drive you in your car and we'll meet him at Rampart, okay?" Hearing his words, a sigh of relief went through his men. They wanted to go to the hospital, even if it was for just a few minutes. Just making sure that Mike was still alive…Larry brought them up to date. The knowledge, that someone tried to murder Mike was a hard pill to swallow. Marco was contrite. "Sorry Cap." He looked at Jon. "Sure you don't mind?" Jon shook his head. "Now that's a stupid question, if I ever heard one" Ed patted Marco's shoulder. "I'll call Hank, Roy, Johnny and Chet. They gonna meet you at Rampart." He gave Marco an encouraging smile. "Smiley just has to wait a bit longer to see his friend." The ride to Rampart was a quiet one, both men lost in their thoughts. The car barely stopped, when Marco jumped out and raced across the parking lot toward the emergency entrance. They were only minutes behind the squad and ambulance. He barreled through the doors and headed toward the treatment rooms.  Mike was nowhere to be seen. He saw Carol walking down the corridor and ran to intercept. "Carol, where is Mike?" Carol was startled into speech by the urgency in Marco's voice. "Mike's in treatment 4. Kel and Joe are with…" Realizing that she was talking to air, she turned and hastened after Marco, barely reaching the door with him. She planted herself firmly in front of the door; she did not want Marco to go in there. He was upset enough already.  "Marco, why don't you go to the doctor's lounge and rest for a moment. Have some coffee or a cold drink. I'll see what I can find out, and I promise to keep you updated." Jon reached them and was hovering behind Marco, unsure about what to do. Part of him wanted to go in with Marco, just to make sure Mike was still all right, part of him knew that his friend should not see what was going on in there. For a moment it looked as if Marco was going to push his way in by force. Suddenly his shoulders sagged. He placed a shaking hand to his forehead and looked so forlorn.  It all but broke Carol's heart. She gently but firmly took Marco's arm and steered him toward the doctor's lounge, Jon following behind them. The lounge was set up for the inevitable invasion of fire fighters, which would be arriving shortly. Carol was always amazed at the sheer number of fire department personnel coming to the hospital, when one of them was hurt. They  took but a few steps, when she heard the sound of rushing feet behind her. She knew who it was without looking around. Give her four guesses. She turned around. Yep, there was Hank Stanley hurrying toward her, Chet Kelly close behind. Hank looked panic stricken; Chet was as white as a sheet. Carol felt a little overwhelmed. How on earth was she supposed to control four anxious men? Before she could open her mouth another figure rushed up the corridor. It was obvious, that Roy was working in his yard, and didn't take the time to change. Grass and dirt stained his pants and shirt. Carol hoped with all her might that Roy, being a paramedic, would help in controlling his friends. Before anybody could start peppering her with questions, she addressed all the men. "Listen guys, lets all go to the lounge. I'll go and see what I can find out, but we need to stay out of the way, so they can help Mike in the best way they can." Chet opened his mouth, but Carol forestalled him.  "Mike needs your full support, but he can't get it, if you all drop like flies. Now please do as I told you. I promise to keep you updated." She all but pushed the men into the lounge. Before she closed the door she looked back. She saw five worried faces. "We like him too, you know." She smiled reassuringly and left. Johnny pushed the doors open and ran into the hospital. He was just in time to see the door to treatment 4 open and recognized Mike on the gurney. The team was rushing to the elevators.  Johnny felt dizzy; he fought the urge to hurry after them. He knew he would only get in the way and delay Mike's treatment.  He held out a hand and steadied himself against the wall; the picture of Mike's face, so still and pale, burned into his mind. He felt a hand on his arm. Dixie had just returned from escorting Mike into the elevator. She was on her way to the doctor's lounge, having been told by Carol about the men waiting to hear about Mike's condition. She saw Johnny standing in the corridor, trying to get his bearings. "Hey handsome, come here often?" Johnny looked up. Her attempt to ease the strain was futile. She might as well spit on a brush fire. She sighed. "Come on Johnny let's join your crew." She put her hand on his shoulder and walked him down the hall. As they were coming close to the lounge, they could hear Chet's agitated voice. 'Oh no' Dix thought, 'Marco doesn't need that right now'.  She pushed the door open and walked in. All the men started talking at once. She held up her hands.  "Simmer down, let me do the talking now." She walked to Marco and smiled at him. "How're you doing Marco?" Marco had been fighting a valiant battle to keep his composure, but at Dixie's sympathetic voice, tears started rolling down his face. "How is he Dix?" She opened her mouth to respond, when the door behind her opened and B-shift walked in. She greeted them with a nod and started again. "Well, they got him in surgery right now. He ruptured his spleen and they need to remove it. He broke his left fibula and his left humerus. He has some broken ribs. The pressure of them against his lungs is responsible for his troubled breathing. He has a concussion, the severity of which we can't assess yet."  She took a deep breath. "All in all he is doing as well as expected. He is in great physical shape, which is a definite plus. That, and him wearing a seat belt when the accident happened, are factors in his favor." She walked to the door. "I have to get back, but I'll let you all know if anything changes." She smiled her gentle smile and left. Tom Samuelsen looked relieved. It looked so much worse "Okay guys, we gotta go back." He looked at Hank. "Keep us updated about Mike, okay?" "You bet, Tom." Hank smiled at his fellow captain. "I'll call as soon as we hear something."  He walked over to Marco. "Hey pal, he's gonna be okay. He's gonna be laid up for a while, but it could have been worse." He smiled at his fireman. "I guess we'll be in for endless lectures about seat belts now." Seat belts were Mike's pet peeve. He was a staunch believer in their life saving abilities." Marco was oblivious to his Cap's attempt to calm him down. "It's my fault. I should've thought of that." He turned his face to his Captain. "I swear, it never entered my mind, that Carmichael would mess with Mike's car. I was so stupid. I knew he had been at the station before." Several voices spoke up at the same time. Chet won the battle by sheer volume. "MARCO, that's not true. We all should have thought of it. Mike sure wouldn't, we all know that when it comes to ugly minds, he's a babe in the woods. Of all people, Vince is the one who should've known. After all, he's a cop. What do we now about criminals." "Don't place it all on Vince's shoulders." Roy looked at the agitated Irishman. "We all knew, that Mike was in danger. Nobody can think of everything.  While we were at the station, talking about the situation, Carmichael already struck." "I'm glad to hear you say that Roy." Crockett entered the room unnoticed by the assembled firemen. "I just had to use all my persuasive powers to talk Vince out of resigning. He's a very good cop, and I really don't want to loose him." "Yeah, well…" Chet was not quite convinced. Crockett sat down and addressed the men. "We towed Mike's car to the impound garage. They found out what was wrong in five minutes, due to the report about the accident. They knew what to look for and they found it. The breaklines were sliced. The brakes worked the first couple'a times, but by then all the fluid drained out." He couldn't complain about his audience's attention. They were hanging on every word. Marco nodded in agreement. He remembered the two stoplights they came to. Mike's car had come to a halt both times. "There's more." Crockett wasn't done yet. "We went to Mike's house and took all the food he had. We tested his milk, flour and sugar first. They found enough cyanide to get rid of an infantry division." He broke off when he heard a startled gasp. Marco's dark eyes were wide with shock, a stark contrast to his pasty complexion. He looked around at the other firemen. They didn't look much better. "Crockett, you got to find this skuzzball NOW, my God, Mike isn't safe anywhere. YOU NEED TO PROTECT HIM, YOU HEAR!" Johnny's voice rose until he was yelling in the detective's face. He was becoming more agitated by the minute. "Johnny," Hank said in a strangled voice. "I'm sure the police will do everything they can to protect Mike and catch Carmichael." He looked at Crockett, waiting for reassurance. Crockett nodded. "We'll have a guard at Mike's side around the clock. We're staking out The House of Ruth and Ed's clinic…" "Ed's clinic?" Chet was flabbergasted. "Why Ed's clinic?" "Well, a local news station must have been listening to the police scanner. They showed up at the accident scene. Somehow they overheard a few comments and deduced that this was not a simple accident. Besides, firemen are newsworthy. If Carmichael hears that Mike is still alive, he might try to get at the dog again, out of pure frustration."  Crockett rubbed his temple. "Hannah Stoker received some pretty unsettling phone calls at her house in Wyoming. So we're tapping her phone. The local cops are keeping her under guard." Marco groaned and put his head in his hands. He couldn't take much more of this. They were all in the stranglehold of a madman and couldn't do anything about it. He felt angry, sad and helpless. Crockett sympathized. He knew what they were feeling. He'd seen it too many times, in too many victims of violent crime. After Crockett left, the men waited, each lost in their own thoughts. Those where the longest hours they'd ever spent. The sound of the door opening caught their attention. Kel Brackett walked in, followed by Joe Early, the smiles on their faces a harbinger of good news. "He's out of surgery. Everything went fine." Kel put his hands into his pockets. "Dix already told you the extend of Mike's injuries, so I won't repeat them. The operation went well, we don't expect any complications from the spleen removal. The concussion is in the medium range; he'll have a headache for a while. Arm and leg are in a cast, his ribs are taped, and there's no more pressure on the lungs, so we've removed the intubator. He's breathing fine on his own now. He's in recovery.  He'll be moved to ICU shortly. If everything goes well, he'll be in his own room in a day or two." He turned to Crockett. "The huge policeman comes courtesy to you I assume?" "Yeah, Mike needs protection until further notice. I'll make sure that Officer McMinter doesn't get in your way." "Don't worry about that." Joe Early smiled. "I'll gladly slalom around twenty Officer McMinters if it'll keep Mike out of harm's way." He looked at the crew of A-shift. "I guess you want to see him?" He chuckled at the sight of the five men, all nodding enthusiastically.  "All right, but only for a minute or two. He's still under, so don't get upset if he doesn't answer." He walked out the door, trailed by a semi-relieved group of men. Kel looked at Crockett. "You know, if Mike hadn't worn his seat belt this accident could've easily been fatal."  He gestured toward the table. "Let's have the whole story." They stopped in front of the door. "Marco, why don't you go in first?" Hank looked at his friend. "We'll come in after a minute or so." "Thanks Cap." Marco reached for the door, took a deep breath and walked into the room. The sight of his friend attached to all that hardware made him shudder. He knew in his head that they were necessary to aid and monitor Mike, but his heart ached nonetheless. He swallowed and approached the bed. Mike's breathing was steady, with the help of O2 canules secured to his nose. He reached for his friend's hand. The temperature felt normal. "Hey Mike, buddy, you look a hell of a lot better now, than the last time I seen you." He swallowed again. "The Docs say you're gonna be okay. Well, you better be, or I'll sic Rosa on you." Marco cleared his throat. "You'll be laid up for a while; you're not gonna like that. Pity the poor nurses and doctors." He sighed. "How in the world am I goin' to tell this to Big Red, man?" He looked closer at his friend. He was sure he saw the ghost of a smile on Mike's face. Suddenly relief flooded him in big waves. Somehow he knew Mike would come out of this just fine. He would keep Mike safe, even if he and his whole family had to sit on him. Carmichael would have to go through him first, if he ever tried anything again. The door opened slowly and the rest of Mike's friends walked in. The two paramedics immediately saw that Mike was resting comfortably and his breathing was easy. The other two where intimidated by all the machinery, but when they saw the smile on Marco's face, they relaxed. "Hey Mike, they messed up your hair." Johnny grinned. "You're not goin' to like this." "His hair? You're worried about his hair? Gage, sometimes you make as much sense as a squash." Chet geared himself up for an argument. "Shut up ya twit. Mike's not gonna want to wake up if you don't put a cork in it." Cap gave Chet the LOOK that warned him to cease and desist. Roy grabbed Mike's other hand. "We've gotta go now, but don't worry, we'll be back. You just rest and get your strength back.  We need you at the engine." Roy squeezed Mike's hand. "See ya later old friend." "Yeah," Hank came to Mike's side. "I'm always crowing about having the best engineer in the county, don't let the other captains laugh at me too long." Johnny patted Mike's shoulder. "Besides, we just love your spaghetti, couldn't live without it." As they walked to the door, Marco lingered. "Adios amigo, I'll be back first thing tomorrow." As he turned he saw the smile again. It made him grin. He walked to the door with a lighter heart. When they exited, they bumped into the biggest cop they ever saw. Hank thought it prudent to introduce them. "Hello, you must be Officer McMinter. I'm Captain Hank Stanley  and these are firefighters Marco Lopez and Chet Kelly, and these two are paramedics John Gage and Roy DeSoto. We're friends and crewmates of Mike Stoker. You'll probably see a lot of us in the next couple of days.  We'll be visiting Mike whenever we can."  He hoped the Officer would remember them. He really didn't want to get tackled by the large, muscular man, nor did he want any of his men damaged. The policeman smiled, transforming his stern countenance. "Hello Captain Stanley. Lt. Crockett told me about you and your men. Don't worry about Mr. Stoker, Carmichael will not get by me." Hank smiled and nodded. They went to the elevator bank.  Their minds were at ease, at least for a little while. Tomorrow was an off day. They all knew where they would spend most of it. ##### The gin was warm, the burger cold. He couldn't care less. His grin turned into a giggle. 'Bye Stoker, so young and so…" he giggled again "…dead." He raised the bottle to his mouth. "Here's to you, bastard." He staggered to the old and battered TV. "Let's see if a dead firefighter makes the news in this stupid town."He turned the knob, but nothing happened. Swearing he fiddled with the knobs and the twisted antenna. Finally a station appeared on the screen. It was very snowy, but watchable. He lurched back to the dirty armchair. Good, he caught the news. He looked at his watch. Ten after the hour, the local news should be next. He settled himself in, preparing to savor his triumph. 'And now to the local news This afternoon, Michael Stoker, a fireman from station 51 in Carson City was involved in a one-vehicle accident. It is surmised that his car had been tampered with. The police would neither deny nor confirm our suspicion. The automobile was towed to the police impound lot. The firefighter is at a local hospital; his condition is listed as critical. The medical staff refused to comment to our questions. We will follow this story and keep you updated.' NO, NO, NO. Carmichael was furious. How could the bastard survive this? DAMN, DAMN, DAMN. A loud crash followed his screams of frustration. The gin bottle flew into the TV set, killing both. The other residents of the rundown hotel didn't even bat an eyelash. This was, for them, normal. Carmichael's mind was racing. He wanted to run to the hospital and choke the life out of Stoker!  He wanted to go to the vet's clinic and plunge a knife into that stupid dog!  He wanted to go to the house that held the bitch and beat her to death, slowly and painfully!  Carmichael breathed in deeply. He had to calm down. Even in his alcoholic fog he realized, that any rash decision would be foolish. His anger took on maddening proportions. Yelling obscenities, he slammed his fist into the wall. ##### The women sat in the large living room, quietly talking, playing cards or watching television. The figure on the couch appeared to be resting, her eyes were closed. She was never out of the watchful eyes of her friends. The newscast was now reaching the local news. The two women watching reacted far to slow. By the time they reached the TV and turned it off, the segment was over. Claire heard every word. She was sitting up, her eyes wide with horror. A strangled cry broke from her lips. "My fault, oh God help me its all my fault!" She jumped up and sank to the floor in a dead faint. Millie Somers, the director of the shelter rushed to the door. "I'm calling Peter." ##### Marco walked into his mother's kitchen with halting steps. He was tired beyond belief.  The strain of the past hours took their toll. Carmelita Lopez looked at her son with anxious eyes. She had been crying and praying ever since she heard about Mike's accident. She came to love the tall quiet man as a son. Marco phoned her before he left the hospital; she knew Mike was not going to die. The relief made her cry all over again. The door burst open and Rosa, Esme, Rico and Fernando exploded into the room. They were angry and agitated. They made Mike their own and were chomping at the bit to get their hands on the creature that dared to harm him. One look at Marco told them to tend to him first. His face was drawn, his complexion pasty.  "Marco, you said he was going to be all right?" Esme needed to be reassured. "Yes, Esme, I'm just very tired. So much has gone on, I need to let it sink in." Marco rubbed his face. Cora and her new fiancé, Juan, stood at the doorway. "What else happened?" Cora walked in and sat next to Marco. "Mama, can I have something to drink please?"  Marco's throat felt as if he swallowed sawdust. Smiling gratefully at his mother as he accepted the glass of water, Marco proceeded to tell them about the brake lines, the cyanide and the nasty calls to Hannah. He also told them the full story of Claire's pain and suffering.  When he was finished he looked at his stunned family. "When Mike gets out of the hospital, I'm gonna bring him here. He'll need some time to heal. I want him watched at all times. If he gripes, ignore it. He's not goin' to get hurt again, not if I can help it." Rico slammed his fists on the table, making everybody jump. "Wrong Marco, he's not gonna get hurt again period. That cockroach will have to get through the whole neighborhood to get to Mike, that's a promise."  Rico was outraged. How dare this scum hurt Mike and push his cousin to the brink of collapse. The thought of the tortured woman in the shelter made his blood boil.  He looked at Esme and suppressed a shudder. He loved her with all his heart; the thought of hurting her deliberately gave him a headache.  LOVE IS NOT SUPPOSED TO HURT!!! He stood in front of the priest and swore to have and to hold, not to kick and to punch. He jumped up and paced, shaking his head. Marco realized that his cousin needed to calm down. Before he could move, Esme went to her husband's side.  Marco smiled. Thinking about Rosa and Fernando, Rico and Esme, Roy and Joanne, Cap and Helen, he felt reassured that Carmichael was a twisted aberration. Oh yes, he knew there were way too many Carmichaels out there, but there were also many very happy couples, who delighted in each other's company. He turned to his mother. "Mama, I want you and Consuela to move in with Rosa…" The expression on his mother's face stopped him short. He sighed resignedly. He should have known better. The only way to stop Carmelita from mothering Mike would be to lock her into the basement. He wouldn't have any more luck with his sister.  Both his girls were not the types to turn tail and run.  "Mama, you have to be careful, that man…" Again his mother stopped him. She took his head into her hands and smiled at her beloved son. "I know, Marco, I know. You go get some rest.  Go rest your body and your soul." ##### Marco went to the hospital bright and early the next day. It was way before visiting hours. He planted himself in front of Dixie's desk and looked at her with pleading eyes.  Her defenses crumpled in all of 30 seconds. She threw her pen down, disgusted with herself. Muttering something about being a weak softy, she led the way to ICU. Marco followed, feeling guilty about upsetting his friend.  "Dix, I'm sorry I've upset you." Dixie turned around, a stern look on her face, one eyebrow raised. "Forget it compadre, it's to late now." Her face transformed into the 'Dixie smile'. "Besides, don't think for a minute, that I wasn't expecting you." Marco smiled. "Thanks Dix, you're the best woman in the universe." Dixie turned again. "Careful with that flattery or I might just break down and ask you out, then what would you do?" Marco grinned mischievously. "Fall to my knees and thank the heavens." His dark eyes twinkled, his mustache twitched.  Yeah, seeing him smile always warms my heart. "Hmph." Dix walked on, wondering why the air conditioner was never working properly. It was decidedly hot in here. They approached ICU. The policeman was not Officer McMinter. He was a tall black man with a determined look on his face. "Marco, meet Keith Howard. He's Vince's nephew. Keith, this is Marco Lopez. He'll be around here more than the nurses will." Keith looked at Marco with guarded eyes. He had been consoling his uncle about the sabotaged car. He didn't know what to expect from Marco. Marco smiled at the policeman. "Hello Keith, nice to meet you." Marco wanted to go to Mike, but he couldn't pass Keith without giving him some reassurance. "We don't blame Vince for what happened, he did everything he could. Nobody could've expected Carmichael to strike so fast. Vince is a good friend and a very good cop. I hope he knows that." Marco held out his hand. Keith looked at Marco and smiled. He grabbed the hand and shook it. "I'll tell Uncle Vince. He'll be glad to hear it, Mr. Lopez." Marco looked at the policeman. "My name's Marco, Keith." He turned and looked at Dixie. His dark eyes locked briefly with hers. "Thanks Dix." Marco went to see Mike; Dixie walked back to the nurse's station, determined to call maintenance. It was definitely too hot in here. Marco approached the bed. Mike was still asleep, but it looked like a quiet, peaceful sleep. He approached the bed, and sat in the chair by Mike's side. "Hey buddy, I'm back. I would really like it if you looked at me." Mike was unresponsive. Marco kept on talking about anything and everything that came to his mind. He was startled into silence by the voice coming from the bed. "Marco, do you know you're babbling?" Marco looked at the bed. Mike had turned his head; his eyes bore into Marco's. "I feel like I'm at a Gage/Kelly convention." Mike looked accusingly at his friend. Marco started laughing, out of sheer relief. Mike improved steadily; he was out of ICU within 24 hours. Marco stayed by his side during his time in ICU. He wanted to be sure, that everything was going well. Even though Brackett assured him that he expected no complications from the surgery, he nevertheless wanted to be there. The other men from A-shift and B-shift joined him at regular intervals. They gave him time to get something to eat, or catch a few hours of shuteye. Mike on the other hand, wondered if he would ever be left alone. He didn't like all this attention. Make no mistake, he was touched by his friends concern, but he also liked his solitude.  He wouldn't get his wish.  After being moved to a room, the visitors didn't diminish, they increased. When he heard of Marco's plan, he looked at his friend with unbelieving eyes. "Are you out of your mind? That'll put an awful lot of work onto Mama Carmelita's shoulders. I'll be fine at my house, I'll get some help and the cops can keep an eye out for me." Marco stood up and planted himself in front of his friend. He had a very stern look on his face that brooked no argument. "You're going with me, and that's final. I never make the same mistake twice. The cops can't keep an around the clock watch on you, we can. I'll get you out of this alive, even if you fight me every step of the way." Mike was startled by his friend's intensity. Even though he knew he might as well argue with the wall, he opened his mouth to protest. The door opened and the rest of A-shift walked in. Mike turned to Hank for help. "Cap, Marco insists that I go to his place after they let me out of this prison." "Yeah, isn't that a great idea?" Cap had the biggest grin on his face. "But…but I…Cap…but." "You got something to say to me pal?" Hank watched his engineer in fascination. He'd never seen Mike lose his cool before. Chet laughed. "You sound like Gage, you have his sputtering down pat." "He does not, I'm…" Johnny broke off and glared at Chet. "Okay, I can see when I'm outnumbered. But let me tell you guys one thing. I'll never speak to any of you again." "Oh yeah? So it's business as usual, eh Mike?" Chet was having a lot of fun. Mike threw his pillow at Chet. He looked at Roy and saw that he was loosing the battle to keep his composure. "You too Roy?" Roy was laughing out loud. "Sorry Mike, but you didn't really think we were gonna let you go home all by yourself, did you?" Mike sighed. "Okay Marco, you win. Poor Mama Carmelita, now she has a convalescent on her hands." He looked at his friend. "You do know, that you're putting your mother and Consuela right into the path of Carmichael?" Marco laid a reassuring hand on Mike's shoulder. "They know about the danger. They refused to move to Rosa's place. Mama can't wait to take care of you." He smiled. "Carmichael won't even get close to the house. I'm telling you Mike, there are just to many eyes out for him. The cops are gonna keep a close look out in our neighborhood, so stop worrying." They chatted amiably for a few more minutes and then everybody but Marco bade their good-bye's. "Chet, were are you goin' with my pillow?" He was enveloped in darkness as the pillow landed squarely on his face. Laughter followed his friends out the door. "Ha, ha, very funny guys, veeeeery funny!" Mike's voice was somewhat muffled by the pillow. He pulled the obstruction off his face. "Wipe that smug look off your face M