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The Diner

By The Twits

Roy and Johnny climbed out of the squad after returning from their last run of the shift. The engine was parked in its spot, the crew from A-shift apparently already gone. As the two men headed into the dayroom to give the squad keys to their relief, Gage glanced at his watch.

“Man, it’s quarter after eight. No wonder I’m starved.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of looking forward to breakfast, myself,” his partner agreed. “Joanne’s taking the kids to school and staying for a field trip with Jen’s class, so I guess a bowl of cereal is gonna do today. . .I don’t feel like fixing anything.”

“ ‘Bout time you guys showed up,” Dwyer teased as the paramedics came through the doorway. “We figured maybe you’d decided to go for a joy ride.”

“In the squad?” Johnny screwed up his face. “No thanks. We’ve had enough ‘fun’ the past twenty-four hours, right Roy?”

“I’d say so.”

“Busy shift?”

“DeSoto nodded. “Everything from a sprained ankle on a street corner; to getting two kids out of a burning house.”

“I hope--”

”Squad 51, unknown type rescue, 1021 South Market Way, one zero two one South Market Way, time out 08:19.”

“Well, they’re playing our song,” Dwyer said as he took the keys from Roy and headed out the door with his partner. “Later, guys!”

Roy looked at Johnny. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s get outta here.”

The two saw Hank Stanley at the open rear door as they walked into the apparatus bay, the rest of the crew in their street clothes behind him.

“Hey, where’ve you guys been?” he teased.

“Where’ve we--?” Johnny picked up on the humor and grinned. “Just hangin’ out in the squad.”

“You two want to join us for breakfast? It’s my treat!”

The paramedics looked at one another, then back to the captain and shrugged.

“Sure, Cap,” Gage answered. At the same time Roy was saying, “I’m game for it.”

“Well, get changed and c’mon. We’re starving.”

Johnny and Roy trotted off towards the locker room to change into their civies. 

E!*E!*E!

Sitting at a table in a restaurant, Johnny watched disgustedly as Chet put ketchup on his scrambled eggs.

“Man, how can you eat that?”

The stocky fireman grinned. “Because it’s good. And it’s even better when it grosses someone else out.”

Roy shook his head. Johnny and Chet had just enough boyishness about them to remind him of his son Chris at times.

“This is really good, Cap,” Marco said, putting jam on his toast. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t any of you forget this when Captain of the Year comes around.” Hank snickered at the surprised looks he got from his men before they all broke out in laughter.

Johnny shoved a bite of toast off to the side of his mouth and tucked it in his left cheek. “What is the occasion, anyway?”

The captain grinned. “I’d like to play up some glorious reason, but truth is, my wife’s not home to fix breakfast so I figured what the heck. After the shift we pulled you all deserved it and I wanted the company.”

Mike sipped at his coffee and looked around the room at the other patrons enjoying their meal. This was a nice change of pace. His gaze drifted to one of the waitresses nearby. She was writing down the order of three men at a table in the corner. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her made the young woman appear very edgy. He glanced at his shiftmates. None of them seemed to notice much of anything besides the food in front of them. Maybe it was his tired mind imagining things.  

E!*E!*E! 

The waitress walked towards the firemen’s table. Mike noticed by her badge that her name was Marie. Their eyes met briefly, then she continued past in a hurry, disappearing into the kitchen. Stoker was startled and embarrassed when he saw the rest of the guys were looking at him.

"She'll break your heart, Mikey," Chet said before he stuffed another sausage in his mouth.

"What are you talking about?"

"You, my friend, were seriously checking her out."

"I was not, Chet!"

"Were too."

"All right, Chet, leave him alone,” the captain said. “Everything all right Mike?"

"Yeah, Cap, fine."

Hank Stanley was certain there was more to it but he let it go for now. He was well acquainted with the younger man and knew that Mike wasn't the type to 'scope out' girls wherever he went. The look on his face was not one of choosing a date, but of concern.

The conversation turned to their plans for the next few days. Distracted by Chet's animated story of what he was going to do, Mike Stoker forgot all about the waitress.  

E!*E!*E! 

Slim, the short-order cook, looked up from his grill when Marie entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Marie, what's up?"

She looked at the older, balding, heavyset gentleman who treated everyone like a favored grandchild. He was one of the nicest people she ever had the pleasure of knowing. Slim had a way of making the worst days seem like no big deal after he talked to a person.

"Just a few oddballs out there, Slim.” She pointed at the slip in her hand. “This guy really gives me the creeps. I don't know why but there’s just something about him and his friends."

"Maybe they'll eat fast and be gone in no time, Sugar."

"Hope so. Well, anyway, here's their order. I'll be back in a few to pick it up."

Slim grinned at her and promptly picked up the order slip. Another waitress entered the kitchen, seeming to be in a rush.

"Oh, Marie! I’m glad you’re in here. I gotta run,” the woman said, untying her apron. “Billy missed the bus and I have to rush home to take him to school. Could you cover my tables until I get back? I shouldn't be long."

"Sure, Kim. Which tables are yours this morning?"

"Three, five and seven. Three is empty. Five is an older couple and they just sat down. Seven is a larger group; some firemen from the station down the street, I think.” She went on, explaining, “They’re not in uniform, but it seems like the guys have been in before. They've already been served but are probably ready for more coffee. Oh, and milk! One of them is drinking milk," Kim laughed. "That won't be too much, will it?"

"No," the seasoned young waitress responded with a grin. "Just be careful! Take your time. The breakfast rush is nearly over."

"Okay. Be back as soon as I can. Thanks again, Marie. You're the greatest!"

Kim tossed her apron in her locker and grabbed her purse. She smiled at her friends and rushed out the door.

Marie picked up a fresh pot of coffee and went back out to the seating area. She made sure the older couple at table five had menus and then made her way to table seven.

"More coffee gentlemen?" Marie asked.

Cap, Roy and Marco replied in the affirmative. Mike shook his head no and Chet stared at her with his mouth open. "Where'd Kim go?"

Hank shook his head. He couldn't believe that Chet was being so rude. "I'm sorry...Marie," he replied after checking her nametag. "He's not usually so obnoxious."

"No problem," she said and proceeded to fill the cups. "Anything else?"

"Could I have another glass of milk?" asked Johnny.

She looked at the dark haired man who appeared to be around her age and smiled. "Sure thing. It'll be a few minutes okay?"

He nodded and she went to take the order of the older couple.

"Hey, Mikey, you gonna ask her out?" Chet piped up.

The normally quiet man stared daggers at his co-worker and gave no reply. The others stifled a giggle or two. They knew Chet would regret goading Mike but it would be fun to watch.

Marie returned from the kitchen with the glass of milk and set it down beside Gage’s plate. The waitress then proceeded to the table in the corner near the door where the three strange men sat. She set their food down as quickly as possible and returned to the kitchen. The chill that traveled up her spine wouldn't cease. She had a sinking feeling that this was not going to be a good day. 

E!*E!*E! 

Ronnie Hayes stared out the windshield of his car as he drove to his planned destination. His actions were robotic, shifting the vehicle after stopping at a red light and starting forward again when it turned to green. He knew the one he wanted to hurt most was going to be there. And the pain he would inflict was going to be horrific. He reached over with his right hand and ran it swiftly over a wooden box on the passenger seat.

He almost had blown it when he telephoned his ex-girlfriend and threatened to get even with her for dumping him. But wisely, he lay low afterwards, leaving her to wonder and fear when he would show up.

“Sweetheart, the wait is over.” 

E!*E!*E! 

“Hey, honey, come back here!”

The rude man’s demanding voice could be heard from the kitchen, and Slim dropped the spatula to the counter in disgust. However, Marie stopped her boss with a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it.”

Returning quickly to the front of the restaurant, the young waitress wished silently that these three men would hurry through their meal and leave in peace. There was something gnawing at her memory, the group’s leader seeming vaguely familiar. Just as she reached their table, it suddenly came to her, and Marie felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs. Willing herself to stay calm, she answered in what she hoped was a relaxed voice.

“Did I forget something?”

“Nah, you didn’t forget a thing, Sugar, except maybe who I am.”

“Oh, yes, you’re Chad, one of Ronnie’s friends, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

His sarcastic laughter was unnerving, and Marie fought off the urge to run back to the kitchen. She’d only met him once, but something about the man had caused her blood to run cold then, and he seemed to be having the same affect on her now. It didn’t help that his two friends watched her, their gazes intimidating at best.

“Well, uh, Chad . . .is there something else I can get for you?”

“Yep, you can bring us another order of bacon and eggs. We’re expectin’ a friend.”

Struggling to keep her focus on the order slip, Marie didn’t see the arrogant grin that lit his face, but she was suddenly aware of the man’s hand on her arm.

“Why don’t you just get that order ready, then come and join us, honey? I think you’ll like our friend.”

Marie quickly pulled her arm from his grasp, certain that her voice was a mere squeak as she turned towards the kitchen.

“Your order will be right up.”

The nagging feeling that had plagued her for the past half hour, was now overwhelming. It had been several months since she’d broken up with her boyfriend, Ronnie, and Marie had prayed that this unhappy portion of her life was over. Young and inexperienced, she hadn’t realized what kind of person he really was at first. But within a short time, she’d discovered that he was very domineering, always suspicious of her friends and jealous of any time she spent away from him. It hadn’t take long for Ronnie to advance from verbally assaulting, to physically beating her. In the end, breaking away hadn’t been easy, but Marie was proud of herself for finally making the choice to escape the unhealthy relationship. Yet, here was a stark reminder of her past, back to face her with its ugliness.

“Miss? Marie? Is everything all right?”

Halted in mid-flight by Mike, who was now standing next to his table, Marie struggled to cover the look of fear she instinctively knew must be showing in her expression.

“What? Oh, yes, I just missed part of an order. Excuse me, please.”

“Wonder what that was all about?” Johnny commented, having watched the exchange that just took place.

“I don’t know, Gage, why don’t you go ask her?”

Johnny didn’t bother to dignify Chet’s razzing with a response, yet his eyes followed the waitress as she disappeared into the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to see that several other pairs of eyes were trained in the same direction, and that the other four men were noticeably still as Mike returned to his seat.

E!*E!*E! 

It didn’t take long for the firemen to go back to their light-hearted chatter. The restaurant was busy with the breakfast crowd, and Marie had come and gone from the kitchen several times, delivering orders to the older couple and several ladies near the window. She appeared to be calm and in control, even when she brought out an extra plate of food for the noisy men up front. The men of ‘A’ shift relaxed and enjoyed their own meal. 

E!*E!*E! 

The crew of A-shift had finished eating and were enjoying another cup of coffee when Marco finally made a move to leave.

“Chet, we’d better get going.”

“Yeah, Marco’s mom has some special chores she needs taken care of.”

“Uh, huh, but you get paid well for your labors.”

“Don’t think I’m going to need any of that pay for awhile, Marco.” The men laughed as Chet rubbed his stomach with a look of satisfaction. Turning to his captain, Chet grinned appreciatively. “Thanks, Cap, that was a great breakfast.”

 

Marco, too, gave his thanks before the two hurried out of the restaurant.

“Hey, does anybody want Chet’s toast?”

Roy and Mike merely smiled while Cap groaned out loud.

“Where do you put all that food, Pal?”

Johnny’s muffled answer was lost as he stuffed a piece of buttered toast into his mouth.

Leaning back in his seat, Cap surveyed the remainder of his crew. “Well, men, what have you got planned for the rest of your day?”

Roy answered first. “Joanne’s been bugging me to get the back fence fixed. Guess I’ll get started on that. Hey, Johnny, how about lending a hand?”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before a grin flashed across Johnny’s face. Taking a moment to swallow, the younger man answered brightly. “Sure, Roy, might as well. Besides, all I was going to do was clean out my refrigerator; I can do that anytime.”

Hank and Mike each choked back their laughter as they imagined what Johnny’s refrigerator might look like, while Roy simply grimaced instead. He knew exactly what it looked like.

“Okay, well, I’m going to head on home. Looks like you might need a little more time to finish up?”

“Sure, Roy. You go ahead. I’ll stop by my apartment first, and then I’ll be over.”
Roy stood up and pulled several bills from his wallet. Cap watched him for a moment then held up his hand.

“No, Roy, I told you this was my treat.”

“Well, thanks a lot Cap. See you guys later.”

Marie passed Roy on her way to the firemen’s table, but her smile was obviously forced.

“Would any of you like another cup of coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.” Mike answered. He watched her closely as she refilled each cup, and poured a new one for Johnny. When she moved away, his eyes continued to watch her; only shifting back to the table when he realized Cap was questioning him.
“So, Mike, what are you doing today?”

The sound of boisterous laughter interrupted their conversation. Looking towards the front door, the firemen frowned as they realized another man had just entered the restaurant and seemed to be looking for someone. His demanding voice was unmistakable.

“Marie, honey, Ronnie’s here!”

E!*E!*E! 

Halfway through the swinging door to the kitchen, Marie stopped in her tracks at the sound of Ronnie’s voice booming over the clinking of silverware and soft murmur of patrons’ conversations. Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she slowly turned and hurried toward the front door where he stood.

“Ronnie, what in the world are you doing here?”

“Well, now, you told me about the Blue Plate Diner so I thought I’d come and check it out.”

“But, we broke up months ago. Why are you here now?” Marie saw his green eyes ice over at the reminder of their split. She ran her palms nervously down the skirt of her powder blue uniform.

“Hell, Sugar, maybe I’m just here to see you?” A wicked snicker followed his words.

“Ronnie, please don’t cause any trouble here. I need to keep this job.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not here to cause YOU any trouble. Now, did my good buddies over there order my breakfast? I’m starved.”

“Ye . . . yeah . . . it’s over there. On . . . on the table.”

“MARIE! Orders up! CANDACE! Orders up!”

Marie sighed with relief.

“I . . . I gotta go.” The waitress gratefully hurried away while her ex-boyfriend seated himself with his friends. 

E!*E!*E! 

While Johnny and Hank returned to their conversation, Stoker watched as the newcomer sat down at the table of rowdy men and began stuffing bacon into his mouth. It was obvious that the pretty, young waitress knew the man, but Mike just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was odd about the whole situation. The snapping of fingers near his ear broke him from his reverie. He glanced at Johnny.

“Man, you were a million miles away. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Mike, something’s bugging you. What is it?” Johnny was nothing if not persistent.

The lanky engineer sighed before responding to the other two men at the table.

“I have a strange feeling about the guy who just came in.”

“A strange feeling? Whaddya mean?” Gage quizzed.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

Because he was concentrating on Johnny, Mike missed the flurry of movement from the table across the room. Without warning, at least four loud popping noises were heard over the din of a busy restaurant. For a split second, complete silence reigned.

Shit! The guy’s shootin’ at people!

Then the screams erupted, and Stoker saw people start diving for cover. 

E!*E!*E! 

Roy DeSoto fiddled with the radio as he searched for a station playing some good music. Most seemed to be on their morning news brief and he didn’t have any interest in listening to that right now. He could catch up on the news later in the day. Once he found one with a familiar tune playing, the paramedic relaxed for the rest of the drive home. With luck and light traffic, he could be there in fifteen minutes.  

E!*E!*E! 

The surprise of the shooting caught the men of Station 51 completely off guard. Normally prepared to handle a disaster at a moments notice, this time they were as much sitting ducks as the other patrons in the building. By instinct, Mike grabbed Hank Stanley, who was seated beside him, by the arm and both ducked down under the table at the sound of the fifth ‘pop’. He couldn’t understand why the captain hadn’t made the move for safety himself, but for the moment the engineer didn’t have time to ask.

At the same time, Johnny was diving for cover when suddenly he felt something hit him above the hairline on the right side of his head. The sting was followed by a searing pain. There was no time to pause and see what had happened. Dazed, the paramedic all but fell under the table, knocking his chair over onto its back.

The screams continued as more shots were fired. Some people were already huddled under the other tables, hugging, the women and young children in tears. Others not so lucky lay on the floor bleeding, some motionless.

As the adrenaline kicked in for the firemen, the scene seemed to play out in slow motion. Two more shots rang out, as Marie could be heard above the noise and other voices, shrieking and near hysterics, tears spilling onto her cheeks.

“Ronnie! No! . . .No! Please!” She stood rooted in shock, unable to move.

A few people were making a run for the doors of the restaurant, when two were hit by bullets; one other individual made it safely out to the parking lot. No one could believe what they were seeing. Not only had Ronnie opened fire on them, but one of his buddies was joining in. The second shooter smiled with glee at the power he felt over the crowd.

E!*E!*E! 

Chet and Marco parked their vehicles at the Lopez house and got out, heading towards the home. Marco’s mother opened the front door greeting the two men and motioning for them to come in. After giving both firemen big hugs, she ushered them into the kitchen for a huge breakfast. When Chet saw the layout of food on the table, he quickly looked at Marco, panic in his eyes. Marco appeared kind of in shock himself.

“Uh, Mama, we already ate. Cap treated us to breakfast.”

“Oh, you’re big boys. You can eat more, I’m sure. Your father never could get enough to eat when he was younger,” she said. “Now, please, sit down and enjoy your meal.”

“But--” Chet began before he was elbowed by Marco.

“Let’s just eat a little.”

“Are you nuts? I’m so full--”

“Just push it around the plate then . . .c’mon, Chet. It’ll make Mama happy.”

The curly haired fireman complied, suddenly wishing he had stayed at the restaurant with the others. 

E!*E!*E! 

Candace and another waitress ran for the kitchen area of the restaurant, hoping the gunman wouldn’t notice in the confusion. The two were just going for the double swinging doors when Candace was hit in the lower back by a bullet from Ronnie’s .38 caliber pistol. The other woman grabbed her co-worker and quickly pulled her through the doorway to the other side, her own safety forgotten in the melee. There had been three employees working in the back and the women hoped for help. The waitress felt a sense of relief when she saw Slim rush at her and Candace from the left side of the room. Without uttering a word, the two began to drag their wounded friend towards the rear exit.

“Where’re the others?” the waitress asked, breathless from exertion.

“I got ‘em out as soon as it all started, Donna. Sam was gonna call for help.” Slim glanced at the rear door. They were almost there. When he looked down he saw that Candace was perspiring and grimacing with every move they made. He hoped they weren’t doing her more harm than good.

Suddenly footsteps could be heard approaching the kitchen area, and Slim and Donna had to make a choice. Leave or hide and hope to help the others later; neither had to give it much thought. They wouldn’t abandon the building with so many people left inside. Slim squatted down and whispered in Candace’s ear, “Play dead, play dead.” He grabbed Donna by the arm and quickly pulled her down, where the two crawled over behind and underneath a counter. Both prayed the perpetrator wouldn’t have the time to search the room thoroughly. 

E!*E!*E!

An eerie quietness fell over the eating area of the restaurant as the gun fire came to a stop. Only the sobs of terrified people could be heard. Marie was still frozen in fear and stood trembling, staring at Ronnie as he headed for the kitchen area. The other shooter held a 9mm handgun in aim, ready to shoot the next person that tried to make a run for it. The two men that had been sitting at the table with him were lining up the remaining clips of ammo on the table. Ronnie had three left for his .38 caliber pistol, and there were two more for the 9mm.

Mike Stoker finally breathed for what he swore was the first time since the assault began. He glanced at Gage and did a double take. There was blood trickling down the right side of Johnny’s face and the paramedic was holding a hand to the right top side of his head just above the hairline.

“Johnny,” Mike whispered. When Gage looked at him with a slightly glazed look in his eyes, Stoker mouthed the next question. ‘How bad?’

But the only answer was a stare at the captain, who was behind Mike. The engineer followed Johnny’s eyes and slowly shifted his position, hoping the second gunman wouldn’t fire. Hank Stanley was barely awake and leaning against one of the table legs. He was facing away from both men, only his left side visible, his right fingers lightly clutching where a crimson stain could be seen on his brown button up shirt, just above his waistline.

Oh my God. Cap’s been shot!

E!*E!*E! 

Roy pulled into his driveway and headed straight for the backyard after getting out of his car. He surveyed the section of fence he and Johnny were going to be repairing while his dog nagged for a ball on the ground to be thrown. The paramedic picked up the toy and tossed it. He waited as the dog ran over to the ball and brought it back for more fun. Roy walked over to the patio where he plopped down on a chair, the dog following behind. He smiled at the pet.

“Okay, we’ll play till Johnny gets here. But then you have to let us work,” he said firmly. While the dog chased after the ball again, Roy reached back and turned on a radio he’d left on the table two days before. It was relaxing to be alone for a change, with just the dog around and music playing in the background.

Come to think of it, I kind of wish I hadn’t invited Johnny to help. 

E!*E!*E! 

Ronnie thrust open the swinging doors to the kitchen and stepped inside. With cold eyes, he scanned the room from corner to corner. Plates of half served food adorned the counter with a couple more overturned on the black-and-white tiled floor. Water ran in a steady drip into the oversized sink piled with dirty dishes. The kitchen was empty except for the woman stretched out on the floor. The man’s mouth twisted into an evil smirk.

Ha! They ran like the rats they are!

Several food orders lay charring on the grill, and Ronnie sauntered over to turn it off.

Can’t have a little fire spoiling my fun now, can I?

The gunman turned and was about to go check the woman on the floor when a small voice called from the doorway.

“Ronnie? Why?” 

E!*E!*E! 

Without moving, Gage continued to stare in disbelief at the patch of red on Hank’s shirt. The intense throbbing in his head was making it difficult to comprehend the events happening around him. Blood continued to run down his face.

“Johnny?” Mike whispered, “Cap’s been shot. We gotta help him.”

The paramedic didn’t move.

“Johnny?”

Finally, the sound of Mike’s voice cut through the buzzing, and Johnny made eye contact with the engineer. He slowly crawled forward the short distance.

“W-w . . . we need to stop the bleeding.” His normally strong and confident voice wavered. The paramedic watched as Stoker removed the denim shirt he was wearing.

“L-l-lay him down.”

Stoker started to follow Johnny’s directions but froze when he saw one of the gunmen looking in their direction.

“Mike?” Gage was oblivious to the unwanted attention.

“Ssshhh.”

After several heartbeats, the thug looked away.

With a slight sigh of relief, Stoker moved to lay Hank on the ground. Grabbing a woman’s sweater from a chair at the table next to him, Mike used it along with his shirt to form compresses to place over Captain Stanley’s wounds. Hank moaned softly was Stoker applied pressure in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.

“What now, Johnny?”

When no answer was forthcoming, Mike glanced toward the paramedic. Gage was slowly turning his head and squinting around the room.

“Johnny?”

“G-g-gotta help . . .” The dark-haired man began to inch out from under the table.

Stoker reached out and grabbed Gage’s arm.

“Johnny, no!”

“Le’ go. They need help.”

Mike pulled Gage back.

“You can’t.”

Before the paramedic could protest further, he was struck with a wave of dizziness and nausea.

E!*E!*E! 

Roy glanced at his watch. His partner should’ve been there by now. Where was he?

The man looked across the yard at the make-shift repair he’d done on the fence a few days before. It was doing it’s job to keep the dog contained, but if he didn’t get the final repairs done today, Joanne was going to be disappointed.

Roy stood up after one last throw of the ball for the dog. Leaving the radio on, he went to the backdoor and entered into the kitchen.

“I’ll get started, with or without Johnny, after a cup of coffee.” 

E!*E!*E! 

Johnny leaned over slowly, bracing his weight on one arm as he saw his surroundings begin to fade to a pin point. Nauseated, he also was struggling to keep his stomach from coming up. He faintly heard Mike talking to him in a whisper, and then the sound of sirens in the background. Someone had called for help. Johnny gathered his wits together as much as he could. A resurgence of energy came about at the realization that help was on the way.

Mike looked towards the front doors of the restaurant at the sound of the sirens. Suddenly reflections of red flashes could be seen bouncing off the glass as lights rotated atop emergency vehicles outside.

Ronnie pushed past Marie and hurried for the entrance area of the building. As she followed him, pleading for him to stop, he roughly shoved her to the floor in the area near the tables.

“Shut up, Marie! Shut up!”

As Ronnie and the other gunman stood poised to face any intruders, Marie stared at the phone on the wall near the kitchen. She knew he would shoot her if she tried to get to it now.

Everyone else in the room waited anxiously, wondering what would come next. 

E!*E!*E! 

Pushing a piece of tomato across the plate, Chet suppressed the urge to gag. He couldn’t eat another bite. Heck, he was stuffed when he got there and now he was downright bloated. Casting a pleading look at Marco, he received a look of sympathy and understanding. Keeping his voice at a whisper, Chet spoke.

“I swear, Marco, if I eat one more bite, I’m gonna’ puke.”

Putting his fork down, Chet pushed away from the table and stood. Marco quickly followed suit and picked up their plates. As he turned to move toward the sink, he pulled up sharply as his mother came into the kitchen.

Her eyes took in the two plates that held way too much food as far as she was concerned. Making tsking noises, she took the plates from Marco.

“Is there something wrong with the food?”

“No, Mama, we’re…Mama, we already ate a big breakfast. Remember, I said the captain--”

“If he were here, he’d eat,” she interrupted.

“But we had a big breakfast with him after our shift.”

Mrs. Lopez frowned slightly.

“He took you and Chester only?”

Chet held back a large belch, then a touch of panic hit him as his stomach gurgled. He knew that feeling and knew it well.

“No, Mama, the Captain took all of us,” Marco explained.

She smiled brightly. “I know if your friend Juan . . .”

“John. His name is John, Mama.”

Setting the plates on the counter, she waved a hand at him. “Juan, John. Now there is a boy who knows what good food is. Never has he said no to a good meal.”

Marco sighed. Of course Johnny never said no to food. The man had a hollow leg.

“Now there is a boy who needs to eat. He does not have enough meat on him,” she said.  “How is he to find a good woman with no meat on the bones? A woman does not want to feel bones when she is being loved.”

Marco closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“He should eat more. If he ate more, your cousin Anna . . .she would make him a good wife and they could have lots of bambinos.”

Chet didn’t know what to do. He was torn between the urgent need to use the bathroom or staying to watch Marco be embarrassed. He so loved it when  Lopez’s mother got on a roll.

“When I see him, I’ll mention her to him,” Marco offered.

Misses Lopez nodded her head vigorously.

“Yes, you should bring him with you. He wouldn’t waste good food like this.”

With a huff of disappointment, she looked at the uneaten food. Grabbing a fork and one of the plates, she scraped the remains onto one plate. Taking the plate to the back door, she open it and yelled.

“Diablo!”

A bundle of brown fur quickly appeared and just as quick, she scraped the food into a bowl just outside the door. Closing the door, she walked back to the sink and set the plate on the counter.

“It’s a shame. The dog even has room for food and he was just fed.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“You should be. To waste such good food.”

Chet clenched his teeth. As much as he was enjoying Marco’s discomfort, his own was making itself known. Cold chills ran down his spine and his stomach gurgled noisily.

“Uh Marco . . . could I use . . .I kinda’ got to . . .you know.”

Misses Lopez turned to the sink and began filling it with hot water. Marco nodded distractedly at Chet, not getting his friends urgency.

Not waiting for Marco to say anything, Chet made his way out of the room and down the hall as fast as he could make his legs move.

Stepping into the bathroom, he snapped the door shut and locked it. Fumbling with the button of his pants, he whimpered. He wasn’t going to make it if he didn’t hurry up. Yanking his pants down, he flopped down in abject relief. 

E!*E!*E! 

Opening the door to the bathroom, Chet looked down the hall and said a quick prayer of thanks. No one was waiting to use the bathroom and he was free to make his escape. Moving into the hall, he pulled the door shut and hustled out to the living room. Marco looked up and made a disgusted face at him.

“You didn’t.”

Chet couldn’t help the smile that made its way to his face and shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, man, but that dried beef gravy gets to me sometimes.”

Marco’s frown grew.

“You had better hope that Tia Marta doesn’t walk into that.”

Chet’s eyes widened. Marco’s aunt didn’t like men all that much and if she got a whiff of what he did, she’d light into him like a firecracker.

“She’s here?”

“Yes, she and Mama are to go shopping today.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!”

Shaking his head, Marco walked over to the television and turned it on with a snap. As he turned to walk back to the sofa, he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Chet, you are gross.”

Kelly took a deep breath. It had some how followed him down the hall. Settling in a chair, he chose not to acknowledge the fact. Looking at the television, he frowned. Leaning forward, his eyes widened. He pointed at the set.

“Marco . . .look.”

Marco’s eyes followed the direction that Chet pointed. His mouth dropped open.

The reporter’s voice sounded tinny coming from the small speaker.

“This is Jim Dandridge, live. According to police, there are an unknown number of hostages trapped in the diner. Reports are sketchy, but there are possible shooting victims inside.”

Chet jumped to his feet and yelled, “Oh my God! Marco, that’s the diner we ate at!”

Lopez stood and moved closer to the television, hoping against hope that his friend was wrong. To his dismay, the diner was the one they had recently been to.

Chet’s voice rose as he spoke. “We’ve got to go and see if they’re still there!”

Marco tried to remain calm, fighting the urge to run out of the house and jump in the car.

“Hold on, Chet, they might not be. Before we go running over there, how about we call and see if they’re home.”

Chet ran a hand through his shaggy hair and nodded in agreement.

“Okay. Okay. That’s a good idea. Let’s call Roy first. He left with us and Johnny was supposed to go over to his house right after.”

As Chet and Marco made their way to the phone, each man said a prayer, hoping that their fellow shiftmates were home safe and sound. 

E!*E!*E!

Johnny closed his eyes and grabbed hold of the table's leg, hoping it would stop the spinning sensation taking over his body. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself and his shiftmates by letting go of the breakfast he'd just enjoyed. Once the spinning ceased, he opened his eyes and looked into those of his concerned crew mate.

Mike took a quick look around the restaurant, keeping a close watch on the lunatic across the room. What the hell had happened? Why was the man coming into a crowded restaurant and using it as target practice? Mike had responded to far too many shootings throughout his career to know the look of desperation now taking over the man's features. The look worried him, he knew it to be a dangerous one. Looking back at Johnny he mouthed, 'You okay?'

Squinting his eyes to help focus on the engineer's mouth, the paramedic shook his head in an effort to rid the clouds now swirling about; he knew Mike needed his help with Cap. He just wasn't sure how much longer he could concentrate on helping. For a brief moment, he wished Roy was here with him. The thought left his mind just as quickly as it had entered. What was he thinking? Of course he was happy Roy, as well as Chet and Marco, had gotten out before the mayhem began. If only Cap had been so lucky he thought to himself.

Looking once more at Captain Stanley, Johnny tried to assess the situation. Blood was seeping through Mike's make shift dressing too quickly. He wanted to crawl over to Hank and look after the man himself, but knew it would take too much of his energy to do so. Deciding to conserve his energy so he could help the engineer, he made eye contact with Mike and mouthed back, 'tighter.'

Understanding what his friend was trying to express, Mike slowly, but with deliberate movements, redid the captain’s dressing. While doing this task, he silently prayed Johnny would be able to hold out much longer than he knew possible. The younger man was loosing his battle with consciousness quickly. What am I going to do? Mike asked himself as he once again followed the movements of the madman pacing back and forth with the deadly .38 in his hand.

Hearing more sirens in the distance, he wondered how many and what type of emergency response personal had been dispatched? Hopefully, they had the fore sight to call a few squads, he thought as he watched Johnny slowly close his eyes and lean back against the table’s leg. 

E!*E!*E! 

Pulling his cruiser to a halt, Los Angeles County Police Officer, Sgt. Len Brooks sat looking at the restaurant now under assault. Listening to the sounds of approaching sirens, he continued to stare at the building, wondering how many hostages remained inside, and more importantly, how many were injured and needed immediate attention. Noticing another police vehicle pull up along side his, he exited his car and walked over to his colleague.

"What details do we have so far?" Sgt. Ken Anderson asked.

"Not much. The place contained about a quarter of its capacity, which is one hundred and twenty-five. There were six employees working at the time. Two made it out, as well as a few patrons. I'll have some of my men question them as soon as possible. We've also been told there're casualties. How many, we're not sure."

"What a mess." Anderson responded. "Do we know who the perp is and why he's doing this?"

"Not yet."

"Great. So, what's our plan?" 

E!*E!*E! 

After entering the kitchen, Roy took a mug from the cupboard and placed it on the countertop. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured the brown liquid into his mug which declared him the world's # 1 Dad. Reaching into the fridge, he took out the pitcher of milk and poured a few drops into the mug. Returning the milk to its proper place, he reached for the sugar bowl and opened the kitchen drawer all in the same fluid movement. Taking a quick sip to make sure it was to his liking, he turned to the sliding door, planning to take refuge on the lawn chair out on his deck.

Just as he was about to walk through the door, his telephone rang. He contemplated not answering it, hoping to have a few moments of relative peace before his wayward partner showed up, with god knew what for an excuse for his tardiness. Then, thinking if could be Johnny, he turned and walked over to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall which hung just below the clock currently declaring it to be 10:15.

He picked the receiver up on its third peel, "Hello, DeSoto residence."

E!*E!*E! 

Mike looked over and saw Marie still on the floor. Moving as quickly as he could and still not bring attention to himself he worked his way toward her. When he got close enough, she saw his movements and turned her attention to him.

“You know those guys?” he whispered, taking advantage of the fact that the gunmen’s attention was focused on the sirens and emergency vehicles pulling up outside.

“My ex-boyfriend.” Marie nodded. “I knew he was bad news, but I never expected him to do anything like this. I have to do something.” Marie’s eyes were huge, her pupils dilated with fear. He could see the young woman was on the edge and knew he had to find some way to calm her down before she did something they would all regret.

“Listen, Marie. You have to stay calm.” Pausing, he glanced back at the men, seeing they were still occupied at the window, he continued. “You can’t lose it now. If you do they’ll take advantage of it. You have to trust me on this.”

Looking into his eyes she saw reassurance there and instinctively knew she could trust him. He was right, she had to pull herself together. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the fear aside. Meeting his steady gaze with her own, she nodded to let him know she understood.

“Hey Marie, honey, come look at all the people out here. All because of you, darlin’. If you hadn’t tried to leave me, I wouldn’t have had to do this.” Laughing with unholy glee, the man waved the gun in his hand around heedlessly. “Come on, darlin’ get up off the floor and come see all the commotion you’ve caused.”

Anger surged through Marie at the unjust accusation. Looking back toward the firefighter on the floor under the table near her, she saw that he was still gazing at her steadily. She knew she had to push the anger aside as she had the fear. She couldn’t lose it now. Not with so much at stake.

E!*E!*E!

Roy waited for a reply.

“Roy, is John there?” The voice on the other end of the line was urgent and familiar.

“Marco? No, Johnny isn’t here yet. Why?”

“It’s the diner. They’re holding hostages. It’s on the news.” Marco was nearly incoherent.

“What?” Roy wondered. “Who’s holding hostages?”

Marco was talking to someone else and did not answer Roy’s questions. Exasperated, Roy heaved a sigh; then he remembered the other man had said it was on the news. Putting the phone down, he walked out to the deck. As he reached for the radio, he heard the announcer’s voice.

“An unknown number of men, we think three or four, are holding people hostage in the diner. We don’t know why, but do know shots have been fired….”

“Marco…” Back in the kitchen, radio in hand, Roy picked up the phone again. “Marco . . .” he nearly yelled into the phone.

“They’re still there,” the man on the other end of the line said, sounding alarmed.

“There’s Cap’s car and John’s Rover . . .” Roy could hear Chet speaking in the background on the other end of the line.

“Cap and John are still in the diner?” he asked in disbelief, his mind unable to take it in.

“Yeah, and Mike . . .we saw his truck in the parking lot too,” Marco said, confirming his fear.

Standing there numbly holding the phone, Roy listened to Marco and tried to take it all in. Three of his crewmates, and an unknown number of other people, were being held hostage in the diner. Shots had been fired.

E!*E!*E! 

Kim was returning to the restaurant after dropping her son off at school when a special news report came over the radio, interrupting her sing-a-long with Olivia Newton-John. At the mention of a hostage situation with shots fired at the place of her employment and where some of her friends were still at, Kim turned up the radio and focused all her attention to what was being said. As a result she didn’t see the traffic light ahead turn yellow until she was right upon it changing to red. She instinctively slammed on the brakes. The sudden stop of her car nearly caused a truck following too close behind, and expecting her to run the light, to rear-end the vehicle.

Kim ignored the obscene hand signals from the driver behind her. Her mind was racing as she tried to comprehend what she’d just heard. The sound of a horn beeping brought her out of her thoughts, and she saw the light had now changed to green.

The waitress felt like she was just going through the motions as she continued on towards work. She had to get there to see if anyone was hurt.  

E!*E!*E!

Roy turned on the television in the livingroom and stared in numb shock at the images his crewmates had described to him. Replays of news footage indeed showed the vehicles that belonged to Cap, Johnny and Mike in the parking lot.

Having switched to the phone in this room, Roy spoke to Marco while both could see the screens on their TVs.

“I can’t believe it. Marco, did they say how long ago it started?”

“Not exactly. I’m not sure anyone has said.”

“I’m going down there.”

There was a pause, then Marco was speaking. “Are you sure that’s going to be okay? I mean. . .do you think they’ll let you in the area?”

“They will if I tell them I’m a paramedic. If there were multiple shots fired, chances are a lot of people may be hurt. They’re gonna need all the help they can get. In the meantime, I’ll be able to know more of what’s going on.”

“We’ll watch from here, but if we see any sign of it ending, we’ll be down to check on the Cap and the others.”

“Sounds good, Marco. I’m sure the cops don’t want too many people in the area anyway.”

“That’s what Chet said. Be careful.”

“I will.”

With that, Roy hung up the receiver and went to the kitchen to get his keys. After writing a quick note to Joanne on his whereabouts incase she got home before him, the paramedic headed out the door, hoping his shiftmates were okay. 

E!*E!*E!

Johnny and Mike watched as Marie slowly got to her feet and limped over to Ronnie. One ankle looked larger than the other, indicating she had hurt it somehow when the man shoved her to the floor. The woman swiped at tears as she stepped up beside her ex-boyfriend.

“Ain’t it beautiful, baby?” he asked. “And it’s only gonna get better,” he said with an eerie smile on his face.

Mike shifted his gaze to the dark-haired paramedic. Johnny was staring at the girl, then slowly turned his head to glance back at the wounded captain. Mike figured Gage was probably thinking what he was. . .how could a man like Captain Stanley be in danger of dying over some nut’s obsession with a woman? It was so senseless, it angered the engineer. For any of these innocent people to get pulled into the man’s twisted idea of poetic justice was insane.

Mike found himself thinking something he, as a man who usually helped people, would never normally allow himself to feel. 

I hope they kill the bastard.

He and Johnny eased themselves over to the captain, as the man began to moan slightly. 

E!*E!*E! 

Johnny slowly closed his eyes after reaching Captain Stanley. He tried to will his stomach to stay where it was. He could feel the bubbling starting slowly, traveling up towards his mouth. Gage swallowed a couple of times hoping against hope that he could force it back down. No such luck. With a groan he turned his head to the side and ejected what he so desperately tried not to. When he was done, Johnny lazily opened his eyes to find Mike looking at him.

"Better now?"

Johnny gave him a hint of a smile.

"Yeah, a little."

Gage turned his attention back to Captain Stanley. He tried to use the rest of his energy to focus on the wound. To him, it looked like the bleeding had slowed some, but he wasn't trusting his eyesight at the moment.

"Mike," he whispered, "has the bleeding slowed down at all?"

"Yeah, it looks like it has some," Mike reassured him after double-checking for himself.

"I hope someone gets in to help us soon. We need to get Cap out of here..." Johnny said, a hint of a slur to his words.

Mike turned quickly to look at Johnny. Their eyes met but Mike didn't say anything, just nodded his head. 

E!*E!*E! 

Roy was driving back towards the restaurant. 

I can't believe I was sorry I asked him to come over, Roy chastised himself. What kind of a friend am I to think that. Now look at what's happened. I only I hope that I get the chance to see him alive again. Mike and Cap too, he added.

Roy was brought out of his brooding by the honking of a horn.

”Sorry,” he said out loud even though he knew the person honking at him wouldn't hear him. He encountered the first police car as he turned onto the street where the restaurant was located.

There he was instructed to pull over. As Roy got out of his car with his identification in hand, he realized it was a familiar officer that had him pulled over.

"Vince," Roy said, relieved, "am I glad it's you.” 

E!*E!*E! 

Inside the diner, things were things were suddenly strangely quiet. Mike knew that it was likely no more than an eye to the storm. The initial rush of energy and ferocity had been spent. But there would be more to come. And the storm on the other side of the eye was often the part that caused the most damage.

I can’t believe that I’m thinking in metaphors, Mike berated himself. This is hardly the time for such silly luxuries. I need to focus. 

But something about the process, or perhaps the metaphor itself, allowed Mike to think calmly for a moment. What was it that his father had always taught him? “When the problem is overwhelming, redefine it until you can manage it in a familiar way.” He had always thought that was rather ridiculous. His father was not known for his conventional approaches to things, but Mike was willing to try anything right now.

Okay. This was a highly dangerous situation. Just like a fire. He knew how to run a fire. First rule of thumb, assess the scene. 

Okay, I can do that, he thought to himself.  

First, assess the risk. How bad is it? Pretty bad, that’s for sure.

Are there lives at risk? Obviously.

Can the situation be contained? Maybe, but not without help.

Where are the hot spots? Well, Ronnie and Chad are real hot spots. Ronnie’s in the corner, talking to Marie. He’s cool right now, but he’ll likely flash any minute. 

Mike was beginning to feel more confident. 

Okay. Chad. He’s over at the back table swinging his gun around trying to impress his friends. He’s still a huge risk, but he’s occupied at the moment.

Are there ways to get to the hot spots without putting other lives at risk?Now that’s the real question here, isn’t it?

Is there a back way into this situation? Additional help is already here, working the scene from the outside.

But inside is up to us right now. We can’t afford to wait for them. It might be too late. If Johnny and Cap could help, we could maybe divide and conquer, but Cap may not even survive, and he surely can’t help. And as for Johnny, well, that bullet put a real crease in his skull. I’ll be lucky if he stays conscious. He certainly isn’t going to be able to help talk us out of this one.

And that’s the moment that Mike knew. He knew why he was overwhelmed and terrified. He knew for sure that this particular fire would not be put out with hoses or chemicals or manpower. There was no ladder to climb out of this fire, no safety net to jump into. This fire was going to have to be put out with words. And God help him, he was the only one of the three of them still able to speak.

Somewhere Mike was sure that God and his father were somehow watching. He could just hear his father saying, “I told him. I showed him. I taught him best I could. I know he’s never really tried it before, but I guess now we get to see if he was paying attention.”

Mike allowed himself the indulgence of a brief glance skyward, a smile, and a thought of thanks to his father before he turned back to his comrades. “Johnny,” he whispered, “I think I know what to do, but you’re gonna have to help.”

E!*E!*E!

Once he felt Ronnie wouldn’t be coming back into the kitchen for awhile, Slim hurried over to Candace, Donna right behind him. He kneeled and felt for a carotid, whispering to the injured woman.

“Candace, listen to me. Hang in there, honey, we’re gonna get you some help.”

The waitress was perspiring heavily and breathing rapidly. She nodded slightly squeezing her eyes tight in pain.

“What’re we going to do?” Donna whispered. “We can’t keep her like this.”

“Well, we heard the sirens so we know help’s outside now.”

Donna nodded.

“We’re gonna have to go for it and get her out of here.”

“But what about the others?”

“Let me worry about them.”

“Slim?”

“Let’s go.”

The two dragged Candace out of the building, ignoring her whimpers of pain. They felt that despite the agony the movement caused, the waitress’s life depended on her getting to help right away. As they placed her down on the ground several feet from the building, Slim ran back towards the kitchen entrance.

“Slim!” Donna yelled.  

Cops were already coming around the rear of the building in an effort to surround it and they quickly aimed their weapons at Slim as he was about to go back into the kitchen.

“Freeze!”

“No!” Donna cried. “He’s not one of them! He’s an employee!”

The cops hesitantly put down their weapons, two running over the waitresses, the others towards the cook.

“Sir, we can’t allow you to go back in the building,” one officer explained.

“But, I have to. I can’t leave with others still in there.”

“Sir, there’s nothing you can do. Leave it to us. We’re trained to handle this,” another officer offered. “We’ll get those people out.”

Slim hoped they were right.

“Let’s get this woman some medical help!” A policeman hollered, his right hand near Candace’s wound.

One of the men ran off to find a paramedic.

E!*E!*E! 

Mike took one last look around before turning back to Johnny. Both Ronnie and Chad seemed momentarily intent on trying to impress the women. Ronnie had Marie cornered and looked like he was coming closer and closer to trying to force his affections on her. Chad now had his back to them as he leaned over a table and spouted his version of macho bravado to the group of terrified women in the booth. In any other circumstance, Mike would have rushed to the aid of Marie and the other women. But here, that would be fool hearty. He couldn’t help them at all if he ended up dead, and confronting one would surely mean a high probability of that outcome. Besides, although clearly frightened, the women were apparently holding there own.

Intent on their own conversations, the assailants had stopped paying attention to the whispered conversations of those around them. Mike knew this would not likely last and he needed to take advantage of it now. He quietly crept closer to Johnny, who was leaning against the table with his eyes open, but obviously not focused. Mike checked the bandage on his unconscious captain, then spoke quietly to Johnny.

“Johnny, I need your help. I need you to hang in there a little while longer. Don’t give in the urge to close your eyes, okay? Stay with me.”

Johnny swallowed hard and seemed to try to shake off some sensation or another before making eye contact with Mike. Mike couldn’t be sure, but Johnny seemed to see him. “Not … goin … anywhere,” he said quietly.

“Good. ‘Cause I figure there’s no way we’re forcing our way out of this. And once the police start with their bullhorn and all, all hell is likely to break out again. Johnny, I need to try to make a connection with this guy Ronnie. I need him to listen to me, maybe even trust me. But I don’t know how.”

Johnny nodded slightly in agreement. “… can do it. Take… slow…. careful…” His words were interrupted by a bout of coughing.

As much as he wished Gage could be his Cyrano, Mike knew he wouldn’t be able to count on his friend to whisper the right words into his ear. He was going to have to do this on his own. Noticing that Ronnie was now looking in their direction, Mike discretely took Johnny’s hand a squeezed it, placing it on Cap’s shoulder in a silent demonstration of solidarity. He closed his eyes and offered up one last prayer for help from any power or friend that may be watching over him, and pushed away from the table, making sure to do so loudly.

“Oh, man, that is gross. If you’re gonna puke again, don’t do it on me, man.” Mike was reassured to see understanding and encouragement in Johnny’s eyes before he turned his back on his friends. “Hey,” he said to Ronnie, making a show of keeping his hands open and in full view in front of him. “You don’t mind if I move over here, do ya? There’s only so much a guy can take, ya know?”

Ronnie nodded and aimed his gun at Johnny. Mike’s heart leapt into his throat as he thought he had just made a deadly mistake. He was about to lunge for Ronnie when the man spoke.

“You want I should take care of him for ya? I’d be glad to, if ya want.”

“NO,” Mike almost shouted, hoping it wasn’t spurted out too quickly for the game he was trying to play. “No, he’s not worth the problems it would cause, man.”

Ronnie held the gun steady and wasn’t looking at him. But he also hadn’t pulled the trigger. Mike decided to try to continue. “The place is crawling with cops now. They’re gonna wait you out, right now. See what you want. Hear what you have to say, you know? But if they hear more gun shots, well they’re gonna stop worrying about anything except putting an end to this, and they’ll start shooting up the place. I know. I’ve been there, man. They’ll shoot until your dead. Then they’ll blame the whole thing on you. And no one will ever get to hear that you were just here fighting for the little guy, you know? No one will ever know that you just wanted the world to know that people like you are getting shit on by the system, man. You start shootin again now, and people just end up thinking you and your pals are just some mental case. No one ever gets to hear that we got some real things worth complaining about.”

Ronnie turned away from Johnny and pointed the gun at Mike. Mike tried to remain calm as Ronnie spoke. “That’s right. We’re the victims here. Us working stiff white guys. No one treats us with no respect, ain’t that right, Marie?”

Mike hoped Marie would remember from earlier that he was on her side. Mike began to feel a little more confident as Marie spoke and he realized he wouldn’t be in this game all alone.

“That’s right, Ronnie. You don’t get enough respect. And now you have the whole world at your feet. Use it. Demand to speak to the TV stations or something. Show them you’re fighting for something here. Show them you’re a bigger man than they think you are. Show the world that you aren’t just some mental case. You’re fighting for a cause here. Show them you’re the bigger man by letting them take out the people who are injured.” 

E!*E!*E!

As soon as Vince got him into the area sealed off around the restaurant, Roy noticed a paramedic team near the rear of the lot. They were busy working on someone. Judging by the commotion around them, Roy figured it had to be urgent.

DeSoto felt his heart beat increase and intensify as he made his way over to the other paramedics. He was both anxious and afraid of who he was going to see as the patient. Although he wanted to physically see any of his shiftmates that were inside be out now and alive, he wasn’t sure he was prepared to see them wounded, possibly critically.

When Roy got to the rear of the lot, he saw it was a woman who was being treated. She had been shot in the back. A wave of relief and anxiety washed over the man at the same time. He was relieved it wasn’t anyone he knew, but seeing an actual victim made the situation inside that much more a reality. And there was no telling how many more may be injured and still in the building. . . Cap, Johnny and Mike included.

Before the thought about his friends was even completed, Roy felt guilty for even allowing himself to feel relief when he’d seen the injured woman. She may not have been someone he knew, but she was someone else’s daughter, friend and possibly a spouse or parent. Shoving aside his personal concerns, his paramedic mode kicked in and the blond man offered his assistance to the other paramedics.

“Nah, we’ve got her okay. But they may need you when the other hostages get freed,” one replied.

Roy nodded as he looked at the restaurant again. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” he whispered. 

E!*E!*E! 

Kim arrived at the restaurant in time to see an ambulance drive through a temporary barricade that was set up by police. As the emergency vehicle was waved through, the waitress had hope that she would be allowed in as well. Two cars in front of her were turned away.

The waitress rolled down her window when an officer put up his hand, signaling her to stop.

“We can’t let you in the area, ma’am.”

“But I work here,” she pleaded. “I’ve got friends in the building.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, I know this place like the back of my hand,” Kim said, hoping to find a way – any way – to help her co-workers inside. “Maybe I can give you details.”

The officer shook his head. “We’ve already got an employee that got out and is helping us with that.”

“Who . . .?” her voice trailed off as she realized he couldn’t give out that information. Kim dejectedly turned her car around and parked nearby to wait. Suddenly she recalled the mouthy men who had been in the restaurant when she left.  

E!*E!*E! 

Roy paced back and forth outside the hot zone. The paramedics on the scene had already taken Candace in the ambulance and now all he could do was wait. Wait and wonder if it was going to be too late to help the others still inside.

Heck, they could just be held hostage in there for all I know. But then again, knowing Johnny, he may have tried something . . .

Roy’s pacing caught the attention of Vince. He's going to wear a hole in the asphalt if he keeps this up.  Vince understood DeSoto’s worry. He knew Roy had been on this end of a waiting game before. 

E!*E!*E! 

Chet and Marco arrived on the scene and, after talking their way into the area, made their way over to where Roy was oblivious to their arrival.

"Roy," Chet started, but Roy startled at the mere mention of his name so Chet stopped any further conversation until the paramedic actually acknowledged his presence.

"Geez, Chet, you know how to scare a guy, huh? What are you two doing here? I thought you were going to wait it out at Marco’s house.”

”Marco and I watched some of it on TV but he couldn't stand it anymore." Chet stole a glance at Marco pleading with him not to give him away that he really came to make sure his pigeon was in one piece.

Marco nodded in agreement but gave Chet a ‘you owe me’ glare.

Vince wandered back over to where the firemen were standing.

"Guys," he sighed. "I just thought I'd let you know that we think there might be quite a few people shot inside. We're making contact with the gunmen to find out exactly what they want. Until then, there's nothing we can do at the moment. The SWAT team is on their way here now, so it's a matter of just keeping them talking to buy us some time until we can get set up."

"Do you know how bad any of the injuries are?" Roy questioned as he chewed his lower lip in worry.

"No. But the cook and other waitress who made it out said there were several shots fired in the beginning. It’s not likely those shots were just going into the air. And we know there were quite a few patrons in there that didn't make it out. Since we can't take the risk of trying to get in right now, it's anybody's guess what's going on in that building," Vince stated. "We should have the SWAT team here in about five minutes. Until then, sit tight, huh?"

"Yeah, sit tight," Roy said quietly, although he wanted to rush into the diner and assess the situation for himself. 

E!*E!*E!

It seemed like ages to the three men from Station 51 for the SWAT team to get there, but in fact they were there in five minutes just like Vince said earlier.

Roy glanced at his watch noticing that since he left the diner and came back again, the golden hour had passed.

OK, let's get the ball rolling. Precious time is being wasted here.

Renewed feelings of guilt washed over him when he recalled his earlier thoughts about not wanting Johnny to help him with the fence after all. 

E!*E!*E! 

Inside the diner, Mike jumped when he heard the telephone ring. He only hoped Ronnie was a man who in some way could be reasoned with. 

E!*E!*E!

Not really unconscious, yet not fully alert, Johnny forced his eyes open, and looked around. He wasn’t supposed to close his eyes . . someone had told him to stay awake, but who? He had a strange feeling he was supposed to be doing something or helping someone, but he couldn’t get his mind to focus on what or who it could be. The voices and noises that had seemed so far away just moments before were growing louder, and he fought the urge to cover his ears. The pain in his head was almost unbearable, and as the noise level grew, so did the feeling that he was going to be sick.

Forcing himself to clamp down on that sensation, Johnny continued to search the area with his eyes, suddenly aware that he was sitting beneath a table. What was going on? Why was he. . .? It was starting to come back to him; the gunfire, the shouting, Mike talking to him about Captain Stanley. Cap!

Johnny turned sharply, a feeling of dismay washing over him when he realized that his captain lay unconscious on the floor next to him. Reaching out, Johnny was able to reach Hank’s arm, but in his own ‘fuzzy’ state, he couldn’t focus on the man’s pulse. This was the something that he was supposed to remember; the ‘someone’ he was supposed to help. He could vaguely remember hearing Mike telling him to hang on, but where was Mike, now? And what happened to Roy, Chet and Marco?

No, wait . . they’d already left when all this started. What happened, anyway? There was that waitress . . she’d seemed upset. And then that man . . there was a gun. . . Shots! Someone fired a gun. Cap was shot . . .

The more he struggled to make sense of the memories, the more the pounding in his head increased. Johnny shifted slightly in an effort to check on his captain, but even that minimal movement caused the injured paramedic to sway. Struggling to focus, he could tell that Cap wore a rudimentary bandage, but the makeshift dressing was soaked with bright red blood. Even with his blurred vision, the paramedic could see that Cap was pale; his breathing labored. Carefully reaching forward, his touch tentative, Johnny immediately dropped his hand back to his side as the world spun crazily around him. With a sense of failure threatening to overtake the injured man. *Cap needs me. . .* echoed over and over in his mind as the darkness enveloped him again.

E!*E!*E! 

From the corner of his eye, Mike watched Johnny moving about under the table. Working to conceal the worried frown he knew must be showing on his face, Mike tried to find something else to watch. Yet the familiar faces of his shiftmates drew him back until he found himself staring towards them once more. It was obvious that Johnny wasn’t doing well, his movements erratic, at best. He seemed to be trying to help Cap, and from his position, Mike thought that Captain Stanley looked even worse than he had a few minutes before.

As much as Mike wanted to rush back to the table, and help his friends, he knew that could mark the end for all of them. He had made his stand when he moved towards the gunmen, now he had to play it out; hold his ground and do his best to find a way to get his friends to safety. Continually trying to watch the table, and still look disinterested, Mike had to choke back a groan when he saw Johnny slide back to the floor. From his vantage point, he was certain that the paramedic had lost consciousness again. Swiping a hand across his face, the engineer wished for a simple brush fire, a cliff rescue, anything other than this situation. To be so close to his friends, and still be unable to help; this had to be the worst feeling any man could ever experience.

The gunmen seemed oblivious to his dilemma, and Mike looked around in an effort to see what had caught their attention. A flurry of activity outside the restaurant caused the trigger-happy men to move back, their focus on one lone man who was now standing near a police car. The man had stepped forward several paces, looking intently at the restaurant. Everyone inside the diner froze as they waited for the gunmen’s reaction, but there was no movement from the men in question. Instead, they continued to stare at the solitary policeman.

 

"What d'ya think he's up to?"

E!*E!*E! 

Human beings are incredibly adaptable creatures, compensating for their surroundings, even in the worst of situations. Mike, like many others trapped in the diner, quickly and subconsciously sorted through all the ongoing sounds surrounding him, ignoring those that would normally cause alarm, classifying them in his current reality as the new norm. The coughs and moans of pain and sporadic bouts of crying were heard by the fireman, but were categorized as inconsequential by his subconscious thought process, which pushed them aside to allow him to remain hyper alert to any sound or motion that may signal a new danger or heightened risk. So it was no surprise that Mike, like so many others in the diner, nearly jumped out of his skin at the simple sound of a ringing phone.

Mike looked at the phone on the wall behind the counter then back at Ronnie, who suddenly wore the look of a trapped animal. At the far side of the restaurant Mike heard the crash of glass then a round of gunfire as Chad broke out a window and began firing on the men gathering outside. Those few patrons who had returned to their seats quickly resumed their positions on the floor, fearful of getting caught in the crossfire.

Mike looked at his friends. Neither had moved at the sudden flourish of sound. But before Mike could contemplate what that might mean, he heard Marie gasp and looked back to see Ronnie with his arm around her neck and his gun to her head.

“Do you see what you made me do? Do you see? All you had to do was show me just a little bit of the respect and commitment that you showed that family of yours and this pitiful job! But no, you were too good for me, weren’t you? What’s your precious family going to think now, huh? Blood is thicker than water? Isn’t that what your father said the day he threatened me if I ever laid another hand on his little girl? Well, too bad he’s not here. We could ask him what he thought of all this blood. This blood is on your hands now. This is all your fault. What do you say about that?”

Ronnie pushed at Marie’s head, forcing her to look down upon a woman who lay dead on the floor in front of them. “Do you see that? You made me do that. You could have prevented all of this if you had just tried. You and me, we could have had it great. But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it, Marie?”

Marie hadn’t said a word. Up until now, that had been the right thing.

“Did you hear my question, woman? Are you deaf as well as stupid? Answer me. It’s too late now, isn’t it? You and me, we’re doomed to die here, just like that stupid ass play, Romeo and Juliet. Doomed to die in each other’s arms.”

Marie shook with fear as she spoke. “No, Ronnie. You’re wrong. We’re not doomed to die. Don’t say that. There’s always another way. Maybe you and me, we could give it another try.”

Ronnie grabbed Marie by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. He spat in her face, then pushed her away. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? You make me sick. I don’t want to look at you any more.”

Turning away from her he yelled at no one in particular, “would someone make that damn phone stop ringing, for crying out loud?”

As Mike looked around the diner, he saw his injured friends lying still under the table; Marie, now huddled in a corner; Chad who stood ready to fire again at anyone who dared move in the parking lot. He saw victims scattered about the restaurant who were dead or injured; and Ronnie who was liable to snap at any minute. He cautiously took a step toward the man.

The movement caught Ronnie’s attention. “You,” he said, waving his gun at Mike, “you can answer the phone. If it’s the cops, you just tell them that I haven’t decided on my terms yet. If it’s someone calling for take out, tell them it’ll be ready for pick up in fifteen minutes. Better tell them not to come to the front door, though. It’s a little busy out there.”

Ronnie was laughing at his own joke as he waved Mike over to the phone, keeping the gun aimed in his general direction. Mike walked to where he was directed, never taking his eyes off the man with the weapon.

As he approached the phone, his mind raced. The police would have intercepted the line. It would be a negotiator on the other end. *He* knew that, but Ronnie didn’t seem to be sure. Maybe he could use that and Ronnie’s last comment to his advantage. As he picked up the phone, he plastered a big grin on his face and looked right at Ronnie. He’d have to play this right to make Ronnie think he was having fun jerking the caller around. If Ronnie thought he was just messing with some random caller, he might just leave him alone and give him a chance to say something to the police that would help resolve this standoff.

“Blue Plate Diner. What can we do for you?”

“This is Mark Simpson from the LAPD. Is this Ronnie?”

“No, sir,” Mike replied. When Ronnie turned and stared, Mike quickly realized he had made a mistake. His father had always taught him to be polite, but now, here, that wouldn’t work. For a moment he would have sworn that he heard his father say, “Now is not the time. Be tough. Sell it. Make him believe you’re just like him.”

“No way,” he began again. “This is Mike Stoker, chef extraordinaire, at your service. Slim’s, uh, not working today. What can I get for you?” Mike managed to put just enough disdain into his voice and in the expression on his face to put to rest any lingering concerns that Ronnie may have had. He rolled his eyes and made a face at the phone. Ronnie laughed and turned away.

He may not be stupid enough to believe that Marie still loves him, but he’s not exactly brilliant either, Mike thought as he turned his attention back to the phone.

“Well, Mike, I’d like to speak to Ronnie or whoever is in charge in there right now.”

“Yeah, that’s right. We’re right down the street from that fire station. Station 51. Yeah, you got the right place. Now, I’m ready to take your order, but make it fast. I don’t have all day.”

Mike made sure his expression didn’t change but he relaxed some as the man on the other end of the phone caught onto the game.

“Okay, Mike. I understand. Are the other firemen with you still alive?”

“I hope so, but there’s lots of F’ing people in here this morning so it may take a few minutes to prepare an order that size.”

Mike pretended to put his hand over the receiver and yelled to Ronnie, “hey, this guy’s ordering breakfast for some fire station meeting or something. I bet I could get him to give up his credit card number. That could bring a few extra bucks, huh?”

Ronnie laughed and turned his attention back to the window.

“Mike, how many gunmen are there?”

“Okay, yeah, two platters with two sides. What else?”

“There are two gunmen with two other men?”

“Yeah, that’s right. We can prepare anything you want. Just tell me what you need. And don’t take all day about it.”

“On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, how close is he to losing it?”

“Got it. eight cups of coffee.” Something outside made Ronnie stiffen and Mike decided he better speed this up. “S-Sorry, my mistake. Nine cups of coffee. Okay, I’ve got the whole order and it’s a little crazy in here. I gotta go. What else do you need?”

“Okay, we’re going to get help in there as soon as we can. Try to keep people other than the perps away from the windows. That will help. Is there anything else you can tell me that might help?”

This was the moment of truth. Mike prayed he had set this up enough to make it believable to Ronnie and Chad. “Okay, well, it will be waiting for ya in ten minutes. You better not be much later than that, ‘cause I can’t make any promises what it will be like after that. Oh and, its pretty busy out front right now, but don’t let that discourage ya. Try coming around back. If there’s nobody out there don’t worry about it. Just leave the cash at the door.” Mike laughed as if he’d just made a big joke. Ronnie responded.

“Hey, pal, you better get that idiot off the phone. The police are gonna be calling so I can tell ‘em my demands.”

Mike nodded to Ronnie and spoke back into the phone. “Okay, okay. I gotta go. We’re expecting a call from the police department next. No, they aren’t placing an order. We’re gonna place an order with them.”

“Okay, we’ll call back in three minutes. Be ready for us to come in through the back in ten. Right?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Mike hung up.

Part 2