Prey

Note from Audrey: I hadn't planned to post WIPs (works in progress), but when I was sent this, I changed my mind. *g* I'll continue to add more to this story as it is sent to me--I'll add it to wherever was left off, rather than post it in seperate chapters--it's easier for me that way. :-)

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Chapter One: Paranoia

4:15 am, Thursday.

Surrendering to insomnia, Dixie flipped back the covers and decided to simply get the day started. It was day 20. In five days, Kel would be starting home from a four-week mission trip to Sierra Leone, Africa. Their mission was to perform surgery and treat the local residents. Although Kel and a group of other local physicians had been "selected" from a waiting list to "volunteer", it was the kind of thing Kel (and Dixie) loved to do. In fact, initially, he was jubilant when the opportunity presented itself. He had been less jubilant when he realized the length of the detail--and downright depressed when administration frowned upon "crippling" the department with two simultaneous, four-week leaves of absence.

He had been excited when he left, taking extra measures to overcome any personal grieving. He had arranged with the florist to surprise Dixie with roses once a week. He had assigned Joe Early to drop cards in the mail at regular intervals. And Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto were unofficially in charge of morale.

Kel tried to sound upbeat during their phone calls, the last of which was Monday. But, undoubtedly, this separation had reached the torture stage. He was ready to come home.

Dixie was certainly ready to welcome him. She had been trying to remain in good spirits…but the last few days had been an agonizing effort. Even her friends at work noticed a slight increase in irritability and decreased tolerance level.

The phone rang. She was startled, immediately thinking that perhaps something horrible had happened to Kel. She cautiously answered the phone.

"Hello?"

“Sorry to hear about your loss!” Click.

Wrong number? However, it caused her to wonder if there would be any more mystery packages in her mailbox. Any more sympathy cards? Any more sympathy bouquets? The roses on her dresser greeted her warmly. But accompanying their reminder of Kel’s affection was the increasingly eerie annoyance of the simultaneous arrival of a small, tidy sympathy bouquet signed "Trevor".

She was certain that the pranks were simply that and would terminate when "Trevor" got tired of being ignored.

I thought I could handle it…she reminded herself.

****

"Good morning, Dix," greeted Dr. Joe Early.

Dixie sat at the nurses' desk, staring at the phone, momentarily disoriented. “Huh?”

“The appropriate response is ‘Hi!’ or ‘Good morning, Joe.’ If you’re having trouble with that one…I suggest you get yourself another cup of coffee.”

“I’m sorry, Joe…What?” She offered him a futile smile, to which her perplexed expression clung. Who is Trevor? Why did he have to decide to bother me at work? How does he know where I work?

“Look, Dix. I understand that a big part of you is in Africa right now, but I didn’t realize that he took your frontal lobe along with him.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Very funny.”

“Lighten up ! He’ll be back next Sunday!”

Then maybe this crazy ‘Trevor’ idiot will stop bothering me.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51," said Johnny Gage’s familiar voice over the speaker.

"Go ahead, 51." Joe jumped on the ‘com.

Dixie thanked God for the interruption.

“Rampart, we have two victims. First victim… male, 35 …gunshot wound to the upper right quadrant of the abdomen--no exit wound. Vital signs--BP is 150/110, pulse 120. Respirations 24. Second victim….52 year old female…stabbing victim…remains impaled on the pipe which is approximately three inches in diameter."

A little early in the day for this sort of row… Dixie thought.

“BP 84/60. Pulse 100. Patient has not stopped screaming long enough to count respirations…”

"51, on victim number two…any heart history?" “Uh….uncertain…and unable to obtain that information at this time…patient is not lucid ”

“We’ll just have to risk it…start two IV’s with normal saline…open them wide! Don’t attempt to remove pole from the patient. Remove enough to extricate patient from location and transport. Any sign of head injuries?”

“Negative, Rampart.”

“Titrate Morphine Sulfate 4 mg, IV, for pain. Valium 5 mg, IV, for sedation…may repeat as necessary. On victim number one….”

****

The siren reported their arrival. They wheeled in the gunshot victim, still writhing in pain.

“I thought you guys said you repeated the dose…”

Johnny nodded affirmatively but revealed his own bewilderment.

"This is twenty of Morphine???"

“--and fifteen of Valium. Between the two of them they pretty much cleaned out our cupboards."

Doctor Early’s disbelief mirrored Johnny’s. "Take him in Three . Carol, start another five milligrams of Valium IV. I’ll be right in…Dix, call anesthesia...we don’t have the kind of stuff this one needs. Oh, and tell ‘em victim number two will come to them directly. They’ll be here in five min--"

“Less than five.” Johnny didn’t need to point at the spectacle coming entering the automatic double doors. The woman was screaming relentlessly and unnaturally, attempting to sit up on the gurney, with Roy attempting to shout over her.

"Just take her upstairs….they’re expecting you. "

"Right!"

****

Officers Pete Malloy and Jim Reed were finishing their part of the admission report at the nurses' station .

At this point, both patients were in surgery, entertaining the OR even under general anesthesia. Some people are just never easy under any condition!

"Okay, Officer Reed. What’s the story on those two?" questioned Roy DeSoto, signing the supply sheet.

"Gang party turned slashing circus at an old abandoned warehouse."

“At 5:30 in the morning?”

"I know," said Pete Malloy. "I’m gonna have to talk to their scheduling secretary…"

“Anyway for whatever reason…he starts to chase her…she pulls a piece, shoots, trips, falls through a third story railing--but not before she manages to land a couple slugs in her buddy.”

"You know, you can’t even pay for entertainments this good," Roy interjected.

“You’re telling me!” Jim continued. "Coffee?" Jim headed in the direction of the break room.

"Sure," Pete said. "Dix, do you mind sharing the emergency lounge coffee with the police…?"

"Help yourselves!"

“Thanks, Dix.”

“How ‘bout bringing me back a cup?”

"Sure." Jim chuckled as he turned to Roy. "He never passes up an opportunity to impress the female persuasion!"

"Oh. You have a partner like that too, huh?" Roy offered dryly.

"Hey, how’s Joanne?"

"Doin’ great…."

“Hey, don’t forget to bring me back a cup!” Pete reminded him.

“Pete, do you have a minute?” Dixie asked.

"For the most gorgeous set of blue eyes this side of heaven …"

Dixie’s serious tone never wavered. "Off the record?”

His mood met hers. “Sure, Dix, what’s up?”

"My blood pressure.”

"Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?"

"Well, probably nothing. But then again…"

"Stop beating around the bush, Dix. You’ll feel better if you get it off your …uh…chest."

“I’ve been getting these.” She pulled several sympathy cards out of her pocket.

“Sympathy cards ? For what?"

Dixie shrugged. “Someone’s idea of a joke, I guess.”

He inspected them . “Trevor?”

“Trevor.”

“Trevor who?”

"Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve racked my brain. I don’t know any 'Trevor'."

“When did this start?”

‘Well, right after Kel left. I threw the first couple out. They stopped coming for a few days…then they started back up again."

"Kel wouldn’t be doing this as some sort of sick joke, would he?”

Dixie scowled. "That’s ridiculous!"

"I have to cover all angles," he teased.

She laughed. "As a matter of fact, Kel has been sending me cards…”

“How charming.”

“And roses.”

"Charming and original," the officer chided. “At least he’s finally recognizing what he’s got.” He directed his remarks back to the primary subject. "Probably someone who knows Kel’s gone and they’re just trying to rattle your chain a little bit."

"Yeah, probably. I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry to waste your time…I feel a lot better since a talked it over with you."

"Keep me posted, huh?"

"Pete, will you do me a favor and keep this under your hat? It’s kind of embarrassing. And I wouldn’t want it to get back to Kel. He’d worry."

"Sure." Lucky bas--

“C’mon partner let’s go! We’ve got places to go and people to serve!” Reed handed him his coffee.

"Rampart, this is Squad 36."

"Looks like it’s gonna be one of those days…" Dixie sighed. "Thank God."

****

Dixie was grateful for the exhausting shift that turned into a sixteen-hour marathon. She showered and crashed on her sofa--never expecting a call from Kel.

The phone rang.

"Nice car. I bet you turn a lot of heads, Miss Dixie…you’ve certainly turned mine."

"Look, I don’t know--"

Click.

It rang again. She answered it hesitantly. "Hello?"

"I’m sorry to hear about your loss…"

‘Could you come up with a different line? You know, this stopped being cute a long time ago…”

Click.

Angered, she slammed down the phone. Too upset to sleep, she tried to read the newspaper. She couldn’t concentrate. She closed her eyes and imagined Kel’s hands messaging the tightness out of her neck and shoulders.

The phone rang again. Dixie just glared at the intrusion. She decided to get dressed and drive over to Kel’s. There would be no idiots interrupting her there.

Kel wondered why Dixie wasn’t answering. Perplexed and saddened, he hung up the receiver.

****

Dixie unlocked the door, only to hear the sound of the phone ringing relentlessly.

Dixie grabbed the receiver and hesitated.

“Hello?”

Much to her relief, it was a familiar “Dix?”

“Kel!!!” She smiled, with a sigh of relief.

"I tried a couple of times at your apartment but the line was busy. Then there was no answer." "I’ve been having problems with my phone. I just dropped by your place to check up on things."

He noticed the edge in her voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh…no...no. No. Everything’s fine. Everything is just fine. How about you?"

"Oh it's goin’ great."

"You’re okay? You’re not sick or anything?"

"Aside from a terminal case of homesickness for a certain lovely lady…"

She smiled. Kel swore he could hear it from there. He realized he was clenching the receiver.

"Tell you what." She softened her voice. "If you prescribe the treatment, I’ll do my best to have it ready so I can administer it the minute you get home."

“Let’s see, if I remember correctly...according to my literature--massive doses of concentrated TLC in conjunction with extended and intensive periods of Rand R…”

"Well, you’ll be pleased to know it’s already in the works!"

"I hope you’re prepared …"

“Prepared for what?”

“Three weeks' worth of pent-up passion.”

"Counter that with three weeks of Irish emotion and we could have quite an experience!" She laughed out loud.

‘I’m counting on it!” Kel closed his eyes and imagined the softness of her hair against his cheek. Her arms and head against his chest. He breathed in. He was wondering if she could feel him with the same intensity.

Did he know she was melting from the inside out?

"I have to go," Kel said. "There are others waiting to use the phone. I’ll call you Monday. I love you, Dix." Those fluid words embraced them both.

“I love you too. Bye!”

“Bye.”

Dixie hung up the receiver and cried. She wasn’t sure if she liked having someone that she missed so much. But she didn’t have a choice.

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Are you prepared?" Click.

Dixie’s jaw dropped.

He had slashed her with Kel’s words. He’s watching and he’s listening!

Time to call Pete.

Chapter Two: Trevor

Dixie resented being made to feel so vulnerable. She deduced that more than anything vulnerability is what bothered her the most about this whole situation. Thus far, anger pretty much guided her actions. But at whom? Partially at herself, for sacrificing her emotional independence--which she had clung to for so long. But, it had been both a conscious and unconscious decision.

“And really, Dix,” she said aloud, “you may be vulnerable but you’re certainly not helpless!!”

She turned left onto Broad Street.

Perhaps she even harbored a little anger at Kel for being so far away for so long. And like Joe said…a large part of her went with him…

At times, she swore she could hear and feel his breath on her shoulders, his arms around her, his hands exploring her body and soul, his lips drinking from hers. She forced herself to redirect her focus. On the contrary, there was no distance. In fact, she would rather overcome this expanse which physically separates them now than the seemingly insurmountable one that had previously existed between them for so long when they were only two feet apart. For she knew--as did he--that they each held a large piece of each other’s soul. And although that fact afforded her some peace, it also fed her deepest source of longing.

She was doing about 45…what was the speed limit? Oh well… she wasn’t going any faster than the car in front of her…

So who is ‘Trevor’?! What does he want?!

Ignoring him certainly wasn’t working. She arrived at the disturbing conclusion that he was more than just a mere prankster.

What if this joker has a plan?

What if her reluctance to draw attention to her quandary played into his scheme? What if she just bought him more time to execute it?!?

Another left and quick left put her on Light Street.

What if the sympathy cards, calls etc. were a warning? Her hesitation might have thrown them into further danger.

Danger? Come on…really!

Two more blocks….

…And there’s the sign. How could I think about this and drive at the same time? Now, Dix, just let Pete ask the questions. This is his venue. Don’t go jumping to any forgone conclusions and above all…stay on top of it…don’t panic!!! She decided she didn’t do vulnerability well.

She pulled into the parking lot of the Light Street Café. She was relieved to see Pete’s car already there.

Just don’t lock your keys in the car, Dix!

Pete stood when she entered. He addressed her with a warm smile and cool, controlled demeanor. “Gotta admit, Dix. You wear ‘frantic’ under control better than anyone I’ve seen in my career.”

“Please… tell me you haven’t been rehearsing a line…I need help!” She couldn’t mask her desperation.

"I know." He placed a calming hand to her shoulder and guided her into the chair. "I know."

A few moments of tears prefaced the conversation. "I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on the way over."

"I see that… you came straight over from Kel’s house?"

“Yeah.”

“Were you followed?”

She dropped her jaw. “I..don’t know.” She could have kicked herself for her lack of surveillance. “I didn’t have time to stop and pick up the other cards and packages either. I guess I panicked.” She hated to use that word.

"Not a problem…we can always check them out later. What was in the package?"

“Packages…” she corrected. “Well, the first one was a nightgown. My size. Fits perfect.”

"You actually tried it on?"

“At first, I thought it was from Kel. Even though that’s not his type of gift.”

“Well, how did you find out it wasn’t from him?”

“When he called, I thanked him for it." She wiped her tears. “He had no idea what I was talking about. I told him in a later conversation that I found out it was a surprise from my mom.”

“Your mom? Verna? And Dr. Kelly Brackett actually bought that story?!” Pete let out a cautious laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I switched the subject really fast.” She also released a chuckle.

Finally! A release! A valve she had needed to diffuse the pressure pent up over the last two and a half godforsaken weeks. As they continued, Dixie was glad and somewhat relieved that she was no longer in this alone. Pete was also glad that she chose him to help her, but increasingly disturbed with each detail of the unfolding events.

******

Michael Moriarty laughed--not at the DJ’s stupid jokes, but at how beautifully Phase One of Operation ‘Trevor’ was concluding. He turned onto Light Street. One more block…he saw the sign. He could see Miss Dixie’s car parked two spots down from the patrol car. He reclined, relaxed, and observed. He was stirred by the siren announcing the due regard of Squad 51 en route to the shopping center four blocks down the street. He snapped a couple more photos and headed down the road.

******

“Okay, one more block…what’d they say…the laundromat?’ Johnny leaned forward and squinting.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…right there’s the sign.” Johnny saw the slight crowd formed.

"Looks like we’ve got an audience…” Roy observed.

"Move back, folks," Vince offered in an attempt to control the onlookers. "Please just move along. Give these gentlemen room to work!"

The small gathering slowly dispersed. Johnny and Roy forged through to the center where they found the ‘female down.’ She was more than down…she was blue.

“Oh-oh…get out the quick-look paddles! I’ve got the airway." Johnny assembled the oxygen and airway equipment with the speed from his experience. His hands cupped over the plastic of the mask and the patient’s mandible giving him maximum efficiency. “Okay…she’s easy enough to ventilate. Vince?!"

“Yeah?”

"Compressions?"

"Right!"

“V-fib!” Roy assessed the monitor for electrical activity.

“Okay, four hundred!" Johnny observed as he finished placing the third patch somewhere on her left ribcage.

“Clear!” Roy shouted placing the paddles on the sternum and ribcage, delivering the charge.

“Nothin’." Johnny reported.

“Hit her again.” Roy commanded.

Johnny recharged the paddles. "Four hundred."

"Okay…clear!”

The concentration of electricity contracted the body but fell short of its desired effect.

“Still flat line. Shock her again!"

At last--a deflection on the monitor. Then another…then another. “Ventricular rate of 40.”

“Pulse?”

“Uuuuhhh……yeah.”

“Great! Any effort to breathe?”

"Not yet.”

“Okay…I’ll grab a pressure and get on the ‘com.”

“Hey, can I help…? I used to be a medic in the military," came the voice from a long-haired outsider behind Roy’s shoulder.

‘Rampart, this is Squad 51.” Roy turned to put a face with the strange southern voice. "I think we’ve got it covered…if you just want to stand back…but thanks.”

“Go ahead, 51,” responded Dr.Joe Early’s reassuring voice.

******

Michael Moriarty backed away, into the crowd, mentally critiquing their performance, comparing this unfolding experience with his own from the past.

He was quite satisfied that he had passed the test. None of those with whom he had worked with before recognized him.

These guys were probably too stupid to recognize him. After all, they were just doctor wannabes, not really doctors. Not like him. Michael had the smarts for medical school…for anything…in spite of what his mother had thought. He just didn’t have the time to play the required "puppet games", as he called them. He had been this close to becoming a Special Forces Operato…in spite of what his superior officers thought. He just didn’t have patience required for the concept of teamwork.

Where was a real man, ex-military, to turn for fulfillment in the civilian realm?! He had been enrolled in the paramedic program, but became quickly frustrated with the colossal ineptitude of its directors and instructors. He was "this close" to becoming a paramedic…but insecure Kelly Brackett was too afraid that Michael was too much of a man…too intimidated by him…too threatened by him. Kel Brackett used the words ‘reckless’, ‘maverick’, and ‘uninhibited’ on Michael’s his evaluation exit sheet. He used the words “unwilling to submit to advice of authority”, echoing former dismissal rationale.

So he was pretty much a loner, left unto himself with a cabin full of amusing gadgets and wonderful electronic devices. Enough equipment to monitor a minor military operation; enough weapons and fire power to supply a minor military operation; enough bitterness, resentment, and stealth to carry one out.

******

Kel, along with two other passengers, jumped in the jeep that had come to be regarded as their lifeline. It transported him twelve miles to the one phone that connected him to what fueled his very metabolism. The grateful faces had more than satisfied the debt he incurred, while preparing for the sojourn. But if he ever did this again…it would have to be shared with Dixie. Not only would she be warmed by the thankful hearts, but the people here would fall in love with her as well.

He was guessing that he’d lost ten pounds since he’d been here. But if given the choice of a filet mignon or two minutes in conversation with Dix…there was no contest. His desire for her outweighed any other hunger generated by the trip or otherwise.

He pictured her eyes as he nodded off asleep…the cobalt blue…like the Caribbean sky…that overlooked the whiteness of the beaches…like the whiteness of her bikini…offset by her tan skin…brushed with a glimmer of sand…from the beach where they were walking…hand in hand…along the surf…as the water kissed their feet…splashed up on their thighs…the tingle of salt water on the skin…tan skin…that offset the whiteness of the bikini…the straps with which he loved to play…the seams his fingers followed…as her hair tossed by the breeze, gently caressed his face…lost in her kiss…as the waves pounded…

******

Dixie startled to awareness. She glanced around to see who if anyone was looking. Johnny Gage, of course, caught a glimpse of her little snooze, and offered her a silent chuckle. Teasing her, he pointed to the corner of his mouth as if making her aware of a trickle of drool. She subtly checked her chin anyway when he redirected his attention to the speaker. How much longer could this meeting last? I thought hospital administration was supposed to be more efficient than this! she thought to herself.

The board room had become hot and stuffy as the meeting approached its third hour when Sharon, the secretary, stepped in…

“Excuse me…Ms. McCall, you have a phone call on line one." Dixie sighed and turned pale. It had been four days since the last…"event"…Kel would be home in three. She closed the door behind her.

‘Yes, this is Miss McCall…”

Her fears were confirmed. It wasn’t over yet.

"If you’re a good girl, he won’t suffer much."

Click.

Chapter 3: Imposition

“Station 51, children struck by vehicle. Cross street, Hargrove and Cedars. Time out--16:37.”

‘Station 51, KMG-365.”

*********

The siren wound slowly to silence as the red light continued to flash.

A frantic middle aged man greeted the engine as they came to a halt.

“You gotta hurry…I...I did it! I didn’t know! I never saw ‘em!! I just plowed through a pile of leaves… I felt these awful thuds!! I didn’t know! God help ‘em, I didn’t know!”

"Okay…okay. You gotta calm down. “ Captain Stanley braced the driver’s shoulders. The man wiped his brow as his knees buckled beneath him. "Hey…hey, hold on. Now you said kids…plural…I only see one…”

A child lay bleeding on the median strip, to whom Johnny and Roy ran immediately with their equipment.

"Buddy…? Are you sure there's another kid?!” Captain Stanley pleaded.

“Under my t..tr…” His eye s rolled back in his head as he lay on the strip of grass between the curb and sidewalk.

"Chet?! Marco?!! We have a victim under the truck!!“ He maximized the man’s airway by lifting his chin (a little trick taught to him by Roy several years ago) with his right hand and the handy-talkie with his left

. “LA, Engine 51. Dispatch another ambulance and rescue squad to this location.”

Another glance at the gentleman revealed to him that consciousness was probably just around the corner. However, he was not in a position to take chances. "Stoker!!”

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Mike, see what you can do for Johnny and Roy, would you? Then check on Chet and Marco.”

“Right, Cap.”

He felt stirrings of the gentleman underneath him which evolved from verbal utterances to coherent remarks. Regardless of his level of consciousness, the man with him would only be a liability. The second alarm was still necessary. He watched the man as he backed over to assess victim number two.

Chet backed away briefly, nodding in disbelief. “I’m gonna grab some sterile sheet and saline…the guys are gonna need ‘em," he informed the captain as he headed toward the squad.

“What do you have?”

"You’re not gonna believe it, Cap!” Marco backed away to allow the Captain to observe.

He dropped his head ever so slightly. “Oh, my God!”

*********

“Rampart, this is Squad 51.”

“Go ahead, 51.”

"Rampart...”

Joe Early knew it must be a bad one for Johnny to sound this defeated.

“We have two victims, both male…ages approximately six and eight…both hit by a car, playing in a pile of leaves…first victim….the eight year-old unconscious pupils sluggish,, labored respirations…pulse 150…BP 60/30. We have initiated iv…Lactated Ringers wide open…”

“Sounds right, 51. Watch his airway like a hawk! What about victim number two?”

"Uh, Rampart, we’re still trying to extricate the victim from beneath the vehicle. Thus far, he is unconscious, rapid shallow, noisy respirations…bleeding from ears eyes nose and mouth…from what we can see…it is evident that a flap of the scalp has been torn away, evidently with brain matter exposed ….from what we can tell his pelvis and legs are crushed and he has apparently eviscerated his abdominal cavity….we have wrapped what we could in damp sterile sheets soaked in saline….we will update you with our progress."

“51, are the parents there?”

“That’s negative. Only a neighbor who is a minor.”

“Very well, 51…I’ll accept responsibility for treatment."

“10-4. We are preparing to transport victim number one."

Joe turned to Betty Greydon. "Betty…call respiratory therapy…tell ‘em to set up a Bird ventilator and make sure we have an airway cart in there…”

"Right…Do you want 5 set up as well?…just in case?”

"I’ll let you know…I can’t see opening up a bunch of stuff if…"

Betty lowered her head. "Doesn’t sound too promising…”

“No, I’m afraid it doesn’t.”

*********

"That’s it?” Pete asked.

"That’s it," Dixie surmised. “'Be a good girl and he won’t suffer'…”

“Just long enough to make an impact and short enough to be untraceable,“ Jim observed.

“Well, we’ll put a tap on your phone just in case he makes a mistake,” Pete added.

“A tap?”

"Yeah. I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to do much more. Up to this point, he hasn’t really done anything that constitutes an actual threat…I think we’d better tell Kel.”

Dixie waved her hand as if to erase his comment. “Hmmm-mmm” She had hoped and prayed it wouldn’t come to this.

"I agree," Jim offered in support to his partner’s suggestion.

"We’ll just say…’look, it’s probably nothing serious…but…if you see anything unusual...’”

"--And get his blood pressure so elevated he won’t need an airplane to get home!”

"Kel seems pretty reasonable. You should give him more credit than that,” Jim advised.

Dixie looked upward then nodded in understanding. "You’re right.” She was tearful in resignation, and burdened by the additional weight of the responsibility for Kel’s protection. “But I’m not sure we can get through. At least, not before he leaves for Frankfurt. He leaves in around three or four hours to catch a bus that takes him to the airport. He’s at least half an hour from the nearest phone.”

“It’s worth a try. “

She wasn’t altogether alarmed at his sense of urgency.

“Yeah,” Jim suggested. We may not reach him before he leaves the field but maybe we can catch him before he leaves the ground. What agency is he working with?’

She realized Pete’s experience was telling him that this guy could seriously be dangerous. "Uh…I think it’s ‘Hands On Medical Missions’, but it was in conjunction with the hospital…”

"Did he give you a number?”

“Yeah, I have it in my wallet. It’s in my locker.”

"Your locker?”

"Give me a minute," she requested.

They knew that Dixie intended for them to wait in the lounge. Their presence always raised curious eyebrows.

In spite of her insecurity, Dixie remained intent on keeping everybody’s profile as low as possible.

*********

"I’m sorry, Fellas…we did everything humanly possible…we couldn’t save him…he lost too much too fast…superior vena cava, spleen, liver…you name it…just shredded. One of the worst ones I've seen in a long time…ever in a child.”

“Yeah, we kinda suspected something like that,” Roy added with misted eyes.

"You’ve really had some bad ones lately. I’d say you’re due for a break.”

"Agreed.”

“Coffee?” he invited, hoping some hospitality might afford the some comfort. He knew better.

"Thanks. I’ll pass.”

“Me too,” said Johnny softly. "I think we’ll just go back to the station.” He offered an honest, tearful smile with a breaking voice.

"At least go to the call room and wash the blood off!”

"I suppose you’re right, Doc.” They turned and headed down the corridor, crossing the head nurse’s path. Dixie returned a pale, blank look.

"Dix, what’s the matter?”

"I don’t want to go into it all right now, guys…" she stated with a huge sigh. “You two look like you’ve been through the mill."

"We pretty much feel like it.”

“Bad one?”

Roy nodded.

"Two kids. Hiding in a pile of leaves. Only the pile of leaves happened to be on the side of the road." "Oh, no." Dixie knew what was coming.

"Truck never saw ‘em. There was blood everywhere.”

“I’ve never seen body parts so mangled,” Roy contributed.

Dixie could tell by the tears in Johnny’s eyes that the outcome was too horrible to discuss right now. She dropped her head in sympathy.

********

Pete and Jim emerged from the lounge, where they had been waiting patiently waiting, even off-duty.

"Officers." Johnny mustered a tease.

“You two look terrible. Did you guys just walk out of a war?” Jim asked, innocently.

Johnny merely surrendered a raised hand . "Don’t ask." The strained expression on his face underscored his words.

"You two policemen certainly have been frequenting the place lately. If you guys need a place to stay we have a couple of extra bunks at the station you’re welcome to…I’m sure the Captain won’t mind.”

There were forced chuckles all around.

Johnny caught Pete catching a disturbed glance from Dixie, whom they had already assessed as being heavily distressed in some manner. In fact, she was wearing an expression reserved for extreme duress.

"Everything okay?” He wasn’t sure he was up for any kind of answer.

“Hmm-mmm.” Dixie responded. “Somebody got into my locker and took a few things out of my purse. That’s all." Struggling to fight back tears and losing, she looked at the officers.

Johnny could tell that there was far more than Dixie was disclosing. “I thought you kept it locked."

"I did. I had to use the combination to get in. It’s locked now.”

"You’re saying the person knew your combination?” Roy was confused. Johnny was also bewildered but he wasn’t thinking too clearly.

The officers’ look of surprise was disconcerting to both Roy and Johnny. However, judging by everyone’s moods and positions, the subject was maybe better left alone.

“Well, if you need anything or we can be of any help let us know,” Roy offered sweetly.

"Yeah, please let us know," Johnny insisted.

"Thanks," Dixie sighed, biting her lip.

“We…uh…better be going. I want to get a shower before the blood cakes in my hair.”

“Later.”

*********

Betty rushed by. “Dix, can you help me in 5? The parents are going to be here any minute. I want to at least get their child presentable.”

"Sure. “ She turned to the crowd. "I gotta go. Maybe Neil O’Brien could help you. He pretty much orchestrated Rampart’s end of the mission.”

"Would he be there now?”

Dixie shrugged. “You could at least try.”

“What floor?”

"Thirteen.” She backed down the corridor.

“Thirteen,” Pete cursed under his breath. “What ever happened to straight answers?”

*********

Once around the corner, Pete pulled Jim aside. I’ll go check with O’Brien. Why don’t you catch Roy and John…just let ‘em know if they see anybody or anything suspicious to give us a yell right away. “ “Right. If anything, they can be an extra set of eyes for us.”

*********

Jim tapped on the window just as the squad’s engine began to hum. A startled Roy DeSoto rolled down his window.

"I swear I was only doin’ 55, Officer." Roy let go of a smile.

"Yeah, sure, Buddy...let’s see your license and registration.” Jim followed up with the joke.

"What’s up?”

"I just wanted to let you know that there is a reason Pete and I have been hangin’ around so much.” He proceeded to apprise the two paramedics of Dixie’s ordeal.

"You’ve got to be kidding…that’s terrible!” Roy exclaimed.

“That explains her edginess lately. I thought it was just because…well you know….how it is when you haven’t…or you can’t…well maybe you don’t know because your married….but when you’re frustrated…” Johnny stammered, unaware that he was pointing to his own chest However his partner and the policeman picked up on the body language and gave each other a knowing glance.

Roy interrupted to protect Johnny from tying his noose any tighter. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

"I guess since Kel left. Pete just told me a couple of days ago. He’s known about it a little over a week or so. Dix doesn’t want a lot of people to know about it. “

“How come?”

“Well, she wasn’t sure it was anything to worry about and thought if she’d ignore him he’d just go away. She still thinks a lot of attention might encourage him.”

"Looks like whoever it is has her worked up pretty bad.”

"Yeah. I’d say so."

"Well, let us know if we can do anything,” Roy offered.

"Yeah," agreed Johnny, "and thanks for tellin’ us. We’ll keep our eyes open."

“I appreciate it. Thanks.”

*********

Dixie and Betty finished the body’s post-mortem care. All that was left was to do was to replace the sheet underneath with a clean one. Dixie log rolled the boy’s lifeless body toward her while Betty was ready with the clean replacement. Dixie watched as Betty’s sorrowful expression turned to one of surprise and bewilderment.

“What on Earth…?”

She pulled out a small booklet from beneath the boy’s lacerated shoulder blade. "Looks like a photo album…”

Dixie was equally confused. "What?! How do you suppose that could have gotten there?”

Betty’s curious, gloved hands leafed through the pages. Her perplexity deepened. She looked up at her co-worker. "Dixie, these are pictures of you!”

Dixie could feel the blood drain from her cheeks, as fear began to replace anger.

"And there’s a note.” Betty handed it across to Dixie.

GOT BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS???? Whose is it this time? Whose will it be next?*********

Dixie was disappointed in herself. She thought she could overcome the nervous shivering and fine tremors that manifested themselves in her body. She wondered if Pete and Jim had gotten in touch with Kel. The phone rang.

“Nurses' station.”

“Hmmm…Let’s see…to have never loved…or to have loved and lost…? You tell me.”

Click.

"Tell me what you want!!!" Dixie slammed the receiver down, momentarily forgetting where she was.

*********

“You shouldn’t be alone, Dix."

Pete wasn’t informing Dixie of anything she didn’t already know. She had just hoped this charade would dissolve. It still might. But her disappointment could be heard over the phone.

”I know. I’ve been trying to use common sense--“

"No, Dixie, you don’t understand. I suppose that there is still a possibility that this guy could be a sophisticated prankster. But he’s given us every reason to think that he’s not. I don’t like the way this is escalating.”

“So now I have a tap on my phone?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you this but…you already had one.”

Dixie couldn’t respond.

“Congratulations…he’s just earned you a bodyguard. “

“A bodyguard?”

“Yep.” He said taking an exasperated breath. “Unofficial ones.”

“Let me guess. Two kind-hearted police officers who have much better things to do with their time than to babysit a frazzled nurse.”

“You got it.”

“No, I don’t. This guy has gotten far too much attention as it is.”

“No, he’s gotten you some attention…”

“ It’s enough that he’s disrupted my life. I can’t let you do this."

"You don’t have a choice. His evasiveness leads me to believe that he’s dead serious. Pete figured that delivering that perspective over the phone was probably the wrong move, but how else was he going to battle Dixie’s stubbornness?

"Pete?” Dixie knew a brick wall when she talked to one.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks," she said tearfully.

“You get off work at eleven? “

"Well, tonight, I’m doin’ a double so I’m off at seven tomorrow morning."

"Perfect timing.”

"For what?”

"For Mr. Gage.”

Johnny?! But--“

“He knows, Dix. He volunteered. And he’s a he. “

"But Kel will be home in a couple of days, and…” Her voice trailed off. She could feel the control of her life sifting through her fingers. The feeling of insecurity exhausted her. And even though she was moved to tears at the affection and generosity of her friends, dependence on them was foreign and uncomfortable. Dixie silently surrendered.

Pete could hear the vulnerability and frustration in her voice.

“I just don’t want to be a burden, Pete.” The white flag was rising.

Pete seized the opportunity for a little levity. He stuck his neck out. “Are you kidding? I know a list of guys who would consider this the opportunity of a lifetime! Myself included.”

Although Dixie didn’t chuckle, Pete could hear her mood lightening in her sigh. “Thanks, Pete.”

*********

Michael Moriarty clocked out at 23:35. Hmmm. Fifteen minutes overtime.

Rampart could use more employees with this dedication!

********

Kel leaned back in the jeep that would transport him to Sierra Leone for the last time. From there he would catch the bus to the airport and on to Western "civilization". Although he came with a single suitcase and carry-on, he would be leaving only with the latter, The former he quietly deposited in the lost and found box at the mission. He was wondering if he would be as fondly remembered as would those with whom he had encountered. He had given what he could and his life was much richer for it.

“On your way home, Mister Doctor?” asked Jai, the driver, in very broken (but adequate) English.

“Yes." Kel smiled.

“Very happy, huh?"

“And you’re very observant!” smiled Kel in agreement.

“You help many people.”

“I hope so," he pondered.

"Very happy to leave Africa?”

Kel was at a loss for words. He reached in his pocket, pulled out his wallet and showed Jai his pictures of Dixie last August at Malibu.

Jai donned the largest grin Kel thought he had ever seen. "Very happy.” They chuckled. “Your…girl...uh, wife?"

“Not yet.” He returned the snapshot to his wallet.

“Eh…soon?” Jai struggled for the right word.

Kel shrugged, somewhat disarmed at the "sign" that was just placed in front of him.

What’s it gonna take ,Brackett?

A pang of terror, from God only knows where, coursed through his veins. He had become very dependent on Dixie’s affection. What if for whatever reason, she were no longer there? After all, life offers no guarantees. He had no cause to doubt her, nor she to doubt him. But life offers no guarantees. Suddenly, thoughts of her flooded his mind like some eerie sort of eulogy. He shook it off. However, the marathon trip home, all of the sudden, became critical to his very survival. His destination would not simply be Los Angeles. It would be her. For he realized that somewhere, during the course of their "friendship", she no longer owned merely a part of his heart. She was his heart...his home. His mind once again returned to their good-bye at the airport.

"This isn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be,” she sniffed.

"That’s my girl.”

"So…I guess this is it, huh?”

"Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not. Okay, okay. This is a lot harder than I thought it was gonna be.”

"Nah,” he comforted. “Standing six inches from the one I love and--for whatever reason--not be able to say how I feel…that’s hard!" He cupped her face in his hands, lifted her chin to him. “ I love you, Dixie.” He battled with the lump in his throat.

"I know...I know,” she submitted. “You’re right. I love you too.”

He could still feel the wetness of her tears as they pressed against his face in their kiss.

He was reminded of the first time he left home as a child, headed off to camp for a month. His mother had been struggling to be brave. She offered, ”I’ll keep you in my prayers continually. God will send his angels to watch over you."

He could remember wondering if angels cried. That day at the airport, he learned the answer.

The chords of Tupelo Honey strummed triple forte as the jeep pounded the dirt road to the city.

He might even allow his mind to wander "Into the Mystic" on the plane ride home.

Chapter 4: Ahead of Schedule

A tired, but perky John Gage whistled down the back corridor of Rampart’s Emergency wing, catching a curious glance from an occasional nurse. However, with his ‘mission of mercy’ in the back of his mind, he remained somewhat aloof. He poked his head through the door of the coffee lounge to find his distressed damsel with her back to the door, probably sipping at a cup of coffee.

“Somebody order pizza?” he volleyed.

“Depends on your toppings,” she returned.

He entered and straddled a chair.

“Need a refill?”

“No thanks.” She covered her cup with her hand and looked up at him shifting the topic . “I really appreciate this…”

‘No problem. No problem. I feel really bad about putting you out on the couch… “ he teased.

She chuckled, welcoming Johnny’s light-hearted taunts.

“Say, won’t it be great if Dr. Kel Brackett calls at, say, eight o’clock in the ‘a.m.’ and John Gage answers the phone?” he continued. He looked Dixie in the eyes. "I have been assigned by Officer Malloy to answer your phone. How does that grab you?”

“The wrong way! You’ve gotta be kidding!”

‘Nope! It’s the honest-to-goodness truth."

“To what end?”

‘I think Pete wants Mr. ‘Trevor’ to realize he’s up against more than just a frightened little nurse.”

“You’re making me sound pretty helpless…” she cautioned.

‘No, now…c’mon, Dix,” he scolded. “We all know--including Pete--that you’re not helpless. We just want this guy to leave you alone. That’s all!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you…I just…”

“I know you just…” He placed his arm around her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “It’s time for Dixie McCall to rely on her friends. I realize that’s something you’re not used to…but you’ve been there for us many times in many ways…now, it’s our turn to be there for you. Just let us ! Please?”

“Thanks.” She surrendered a smile.

He responded in kind. “Now, I don’t know about you but I’m starved. How about breakfast at a pancake house??”

“You know , for the first time in a quite a while…I’m actually hungry!”

“Great! I’ll flip you for the tab.”

“If we don’t go Dutch…I’ll flip you!”

They chuckled as they headed to the parking lot.

*****

His plan allowed a reasonable margin of error and was running on schedule. The physician’s house was...prepared...for its occupant to return. As was his office.

Michael Moriarty had been extremely careful not to disturb anything--even subtly. He had used surgical gloves which had been pilfered from Rampart, to afford his hands the dexterity required for performing the intricate tasks of splicing and joining gossamer wires, making fine measurements etc., without disclosing his identity. The ‘borrowed’ Price Janitorial van supplied all the equipment necessary to erase any trace of his having been there. Of course, in the event he were spotted, his appearance could be easily be altered. Unless it was his intention, he was never the same person twice. Phase Two was completed.

Just like in the past, his savior, vengeance, supplied sufficient adrenaline to execute its own mission.

Michael Moriarty felt revived and invigorated. No night’s rest could offer such peace of mind.

*****

As the plane reached 33,000 feet, the ‘no smoking’ and ‘fasten seatbelt’ lights went out. Kel felt himself breathing a little easier probably because in a little less than six hours he would be on the last leg of his journey home. He made eye contact with the gentleman in the seat next to him and offered him a smile. “Ross Leland." The middle aged man extended a large Southern hand.

“Kelly Brackett.”

‘Where you headed?”

“L. A. How ‘bout you?”

“San Antonio.”

‘Is that where you’re from?”

“Originally, from Fort Worth, but I’ve lived on a Texas ranch all my life!”

‘Oh? I practically grew up on my uncle’s California ranch. “

“Still live there?”

’No, he died a while back. My father and I still have it though. Our ranch hand lives there and runs it. I get up there when I can…we’re tryin’ to break in my nephew.”

“Have horses?”

“Do now. A few Morgans and a couple of Appaloosas. How about you?”

”Twenty or so…Quarters mostly…so how did a cowboy like you wind up in the city like Los Angeles?…”

A friendship began.

*****

"I am beat!!” Dixie announced as they entered her doorway. She threw her purse on the chair and removed her coat. “Tell you what…can you put these in some water? I really, really have to go to the…never mind…after I… you know…. I’ll get your bed ready.” She handed him the unopened box of flowers.

“Naw, no!“ Johnny contested. “I’ll put those in water, but you just go get some rest after you….you know. “ He finished the sentence with a wave of his hand. “ I have a sleeping bag and my favorite pillow out in the car."

“Favorite pillow?!” She smiled. This was a point worth pursuing even at the price of a little discomfort.

“Yeah? Somethin’ wrong?” He blinked and blushed.

"Uh-uh. I just think it’s cute that my ‘bodyguard’ has a ‘favorite pillow’. That’s all.” Dixie chuckled as she handed him the vase and rushed into the bathroom.

Johnny filled the vase with water.

“Got a rubber ducky too?” she shouted, re-entering the hallway.

‘I may have a couple of tub toys…but no rubber ducks!" he teased.

“Well, if you need one, there’s one in the tub. Kel’s nephew Charlie left it here. He’s got a ‘favorite pillow' too…and a ‘bubba.’"

“Bubba?”

"That’s what he calls his blanket."

“He’s got a blanket?”

“Mmm-hm.”

“I’m jealous.”

She laughed, to his pleasure. The tension was lessening. “Now would you go lay down….?” Again, he waved his hand in the direction of her bedroom. “ --Wait! Where do you want these?” He held up the unopened box.

"Just put ‘em on the table.” She motioned with her hand, mimicking his charades.

"Well, what do I do with the roses on the table?”

“Uh… how ‘bout…put ‘em in the bathroom. The ones in there are getting a little stale," she said coyly.

Johnny rolled his eyes and smiled. "The show-off….spends like a sailor…you’d swear he was a doctor or something." He smirked and mumbled under his breath, just loud enough to entertain Dixie as she loosened her hair and headed back to her room. Maybe she could actually get some sleep. Her friend was indeed a comfort.

“Oh…can I use your phone?” he hollered the thought to Dixie. “I need to call Roy and tell him we’re on for this evening.”

‘What?!” She poked her head into the hallway.

‘Well, I thought it would be a nice distraction this evening if some of us got together and maybe had dinner…?"

"So, now you’re my social coordinator too, huh?”

"Yep." He laughed to himself as he heard her door close.

“Help yourself!” came her faded , exhausted voice from the bedroom.

*****

Moriarty, master of disguises, was an amalgamation of several persons. Sometimes he was his mother’s boy …so angry at himself for never being ‘smart enough’ to make her proud. Sometimes he was the renegade son, hating the humiliation and persecution suffered at the hands of stupid authority figures, such his mother or his military superiors. Occasionally, he was both…he could be self-destructive and mutilating. But why punish himself for others’ inadequacies? Regardless of which side of his personality predominated, Michael Moriarty always sought compensation for his pathos in life.

His mother’s restitution was complete. In return for his forgiveness, she fell, slain by her son’s hands. He could love her now, for which, he was certain that she would be eternally grateful, as would the others whose sacrifices were completed by him and in whom he could now place his respect.

Kelly Brackett did not deserve quick dismissal. The physician, now adversary, had erased Michael’s last opportunity for dignity and recognition from his own father. For this he would suffer humility. The advocate, now villain, had emaciated Michael’s masculinity in front of his piers. For this he would suffer fear and contempt. He would pay with his heart, soul, mind, and--eventually--body. He would be stalked, tortured, and devoured. This physician and advocate was now his Adversary, his Villain.

He was now his Prey.

*****

"Not married?”

"Not yet." Kel was amused at the Southerner’s curiosity.

"Well, there’s no rush," Ross directed. Kel waited for Ross’ account.

“Oh…don’t get me wrong. I’m very happily hitched. Kate’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And I wouldn’t trade places with anybody. I’m just advising you…its better to wait and be sure than to rush into things and be miserable."

If you only knew! Kel thought. He smiled and without saying a word, reached for his wallet… and pulled out his prize picture.

Kel delighted in Ross’ expression and accompanying sigh. "Wow!"

“Yeah.” He smiled proudly.

“How long have you known her?” He took the picture from Kel’s hand and examined it.

“Oh….’bout five years, now.”

With a grin the size of Texas, Ross returned the worn snapshot to Kelly. "On the other hand….what’s takin’ you so long, son?!”

Kel was very thankful he had duplicates of the photo in the drawer of his bedside stand. This one had gotten quite a work-out.

He returned to the picture of his beautiful lover once again. Then, he reclined his seat, and visualized their reunion.

*****

Johnny opened the box of flowers, pulling back the tissue paper. “Oh, no," he whispered as his jaw dropped, he opened the envelope and read the typed message.

‘Dead roses for a blue lady…’

Angered, he examined the accompanying shattered picture of Kelly Brackett which had been tucked inside, tidily wrapped in tissue paper.

He was thankful Dixie was so tired. Maybe once she woke up, she’d forget about the roses. At any rate, he wanted to protect her from this nuisance and afford her some decent sleep. He threw them in the dumpster on his way out to the car.

He unlocked his Land Rover, grabbed his gear and closed the door with one of his finer assets.

Instinctively, he locked the door and headed toward the building. As an after-thought he pondered an idea. "Hmmm.” He looked at the van and read the ad on the side.

‘Price Janitorial Services. Commercial, Industrial, and Private…hmmmm.’

He approached the man eating a sandwich in the van. “Excuse me. Could you tell me what your rates are? I have an apartment that needs--”

“--I dunno. I couldn’t tell ya. This is a big corporation. I just punch the clock, Ya know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Thanks.” He sighed .

“For nothing,” Johnny mumbled to himself, walking toward the building. "My goodness, that guy was stupid!!”

*****

Kel straightened his seat, waking from his after-lunch nap. They had been in the air nearly five hours and were expecting to see land anytime soon. He looked up and noticed a diaphoretic Ross Leland loosening his tie while presenting labored respirations.

He observed for a few additional seconds and quietly leaned over and said, “You don’t look so good.”

He gently and discreetly reached for his pulse. Weak, thready, and irregular.

"I don’t feel so good," Ross echoed with deep breathes and puffing cheeks. “Oh, no?” Kel responded, not surprised in the least, given the gentleman’s appearance.

“Uh-huh. Feels like I’ve got an elephant on my chest!“

“Pain too?”

“Yep.”

“This ever happen before?”

“Nope.”

Damn. New onset, so he won’t have any medications to buy us any time. He sighed.

“Uh…Miss?!” Kel flagged a stewardess. “I’m a physician and I need to talk to the pilot.” He saw Dixie’s welcome pushed back further and further. *****

Three Phone Calls

The phone was ringing. Johnny dropped the sleeping bag and pillow from under his arm, shoved the key in the lock, and raced to pick up the receiver. “Hello? Miss McCall’s residence,” Johnny stammered as he answered, and waited. To his relief, a recognizable, familiar voice was on the other end.

“I’m sorry…who’s this?” Joe Early was confused.

"This is John Gage.”

“Johnny?” asked Joe Early.

“ Hi, Doc. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m answering Dixie’s phone…” he deliberated.

“Actually, I know why you’re there, and I’m relieved. I was just calling to see if she was okay.”

“Ahh? Checking up on her too, huh?”

"Yeah. ”

“Yeah," he said, understanding perfectly. “Well...she’s fine; she’s fine. She’s in her bedroom asleep--out cold.”

“Good. That’s good news. I think--well, I know--that she’s been having trouble sleeping lately. Now at least I know the reason.”

"I can’t believe that she kept it a secret for so long.”

"Well, you know Dixie. Probably thought it was nothing and didn’t want to make a fuss over nothing…”

“She still thinks the more attention he gets the more he’ll feed off of it."

"I hope this all blows away when Kel comes home.”

‘Yeah. We all do.”

“If the guy knows who he’s dealing with and he’s smart...for his own sake, he will.”

*****

Kel’s first order of business (after the patient’s stability) was to find a phone.

On the second ring, a sleepy Dixie McCall answered. “Hello?" she said quietly.

"Hi.”

“Hi!”

Kel smiled at her immediate elevation in moods…even though he figured it probably wouldn’t last, considering the news of his delay.

“Where are you?” she inquired.

"John’s Hopkins…"

‘What? Where?”

"Baltimore." “Yeah, I know, Baltimore. I mean, what are you doing in Baltimore?” That wasn’t on the itinerary!

“On the airplane, the guy beside me decided to infarct the inferior wall of his left ventricle."

"Lucky you!" She tried not to scowl over the phone.

“Lucky him. At least he waited until we cleared the Atlantic. He’s a nice guy….maybe you could meet him someday. He’s from Texas.”

"So… when do I get to meet you?”

"Well the last flight to New York City leaves in an hour. I’ll never catch that. I’m goin’ for the 10:27 to Atlanta. By that time Ross’ wife should be here and I can head out. ”

"Gonna see the South, huh?”

"Looks that way….Atlanta, Houston, DWF and who knows where else.”

"So …” she repeated. “When are you get to Los Angeles?”

"Probably no earlier than eleven-thirty tomorrow night.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Believe me, I wish I was.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Dix.”

"It’s okay. I understand," she offered. "And don’t worry. It’ll be worth the wait.”

He sighed and smiled. “I’m sure it will."

"I love you.”

"I love you too. I gotta run." "Right. Bye, Kel.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

She hung up the phone. Sweetheart? That’s a new one.

She smiled as she wrapped his words around her, and fell back on the bed. His presence--no matter in what degree or capacity--always fit her perfectly, regardless of whether it was his soft, strong voice on the phone, and accidental brushing at work or his mountainous thrusts of passion. He warmed her inside and out--through and through. She allowed herself the clichés because it was the just the plain, powerful truth.

How could longing subside and deepen at the same time? She glanced over at the roses he had given her, and silently cursed the accompanying twinge of uneasiness that had crescendoed over the past weeks. She had wanted to warn him…but how could she? What would he possibly do? She would indeed be thankful for his return tomorrow.

That reminds me…I had better get over to Kel’s sometime before he gets home and make sure everything’s in order for his return!

*****

Dixie awoke to the phone ringing again. This time the distressed voice of Betty Greydon was on the other end. “Dix? Did I wake you? Sorry! Listen, I hate to bother you on your day off but we had two people call in sick. We’ve pulled Lisa Emery from orthopedics but she isn’t cross-trained and can only do so much…" She sighed. “Do you think you could…?"

"Sure.” She glanced at her watch. “I should be able to be there by three…”

“You’re a life saver!”

“No problem. See you in a few minutes.”

“Right.”

Dixie took a moment to think. 1:30. She’d have to hurry, but she could make the 2:15 bus as substitute transportation for her car, still parked at Rampart. Waking Johnny would be a last resort--only if she missed the bus. She showered quickly and quietly, dropping a note on the coffee table to inform a comatose Johnny Gage of her whereabouts, and slipped out the door.

*****

Several hours later, the phone alarmed him from a sound sleep. The previous night of his workday had been a busy one. No catastrophies...however, there were just enough stupid, diddly calls to occupy the entire night and take its toll on his sleep pattern.

“Hello?” An instant of orientation followed his response. “Uhhh--Miss McCall’s residence.” He glanced at his watch in disbelief.

‘Who is this?” responded a frantic and puzzled Betty Greydon.

"This is John Gage. Who’s this?”

“This is Betty Greydon at Rampart. Johnny…what are you…? Never mind! Is Dixie there? I need to talk to her right away."

"Sure, just a second. I’ll get her for you.” He covered the receiver with his hand. “Dix?” He placed it on the coffee table, peeked into her bedroom and was puzzled to see that she wasn’t there. “Dix?” he called again, checking the guest room that served as a spare closet and work room. He returned to the living room and spotted the note on the coffee table. Perplexed, he read it.

Johnny,
It’s two o'clock.
Kel called …won’t be back until late tomorrow night…
Betty called…she needs me to go into work, 3 to 11:30…
I’m taking the Local 36 to Rampart….
You snore!!!!

He looked at his watch. 4:30.

From her end, Betty could hear Johnny mumbling something.

"Oh, no!! Why did she…?” He picked up, returning the receiver to his ear. “Uh…Betty? I can’t locate her right now. She’s not at work?” He sounded forlorn.

"I wouldn’t be calling her if she were!”

"Right.”

‘When I called her, she said she’d be in by three!”

Johnny’s heart sank.

"You don’t have any idea where she is…?” Betty pleaded.

His mind searched for logical explanations. He could come up with only one.

*****

Chapter 5: Ignition

Officer Reed's entrance drew everyone's hopeful attention. He erased their optimism with the solemn shake of his head. "She never made it to the bus. I showed the driver Dixie's picture. He said that she never got on…What I don't get is how he knew she was going to work…it was supposed to be her day off…"

"He was just waiting and listening,” Pete suggested in frustration.

"No witnesses?!" Johnny placed his face in his hands.

"None that have come forward anyway,” Jim responded, equally dismayed.

" You mean to tell me in broad daylight, nobody saw anything?" Roy exclaimed.

"Huh-uh." Pete shook his head. "Look, Roy. We're on the same side!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I just can't believe it…" He offered apologetically to his friends.

"Yeah, well…you're not the only one." Pete offered understanding.

"Any leads?" Jim attempted to review the concrete evidence. "What about the cards?"

"You can pick up a dozen of that kind in any grocery store, drug store, department store this side of theJordan River."

"The picture frames?" Johnny asked.

"Same deal."

"Our buddy wasn't very selective with his merchandise." Johnny responded indignantly.

"On the contrary, I'd say he's done a masterful job at being invisible." Pete informed them. "We thought we had a break on the flowers. "Trevor apparently bought them from several different florists…sounds like he paid some teens to do the ordering for him and told them to keep the change."

"Could they identify him or give a physical description?"

"Oh they could all identify him but aside from his height, his appearance was different in some way each time. Another dead end."

"What about the gifts…?" Johnny sighed with frustration.

"We're still working on those but…"

"No prints on any thing?"

"Not one finger print... other than Dixie's."

"So he's either wiping everything clean or using gloves??" Roy observed.

"Or both." Said Pete. "Probably both."

"So what happens now?" Roy asked.

"Well, so far the investigation has all been unofficial. He never, technically threatened anyone's life…only insinuated harm…the Feds won't do anything until Monday morning anyway."

" Why?!"

"Technically, she's not a missing person. It hasn't been twenty-four hours-- That will be three o'clock this afternoon. My guess…Monday morning somebody will be around asking questions…I don't expect much more before that."

"Twenty-'four hours?!" Johnny shouted in exasperation. "I just hope that TECHNICALLY she's okay!"

*****

"I'm going to relieve you of his burden, Miss Dixie. If that's all right with you."

She glared at him. Her verbal protests were muted by the rolled-up sock in her mouth.

"Silence gives consent." He smiled. "He will leave you. I will drive him out of your life forever.”

She quietly fought his words. He could see it in her eyes. That would not last. He had patience, the endurance of years of disappointments. It may be hours. It may be days. But she would tire. Restraints on her combative wrists served as ready tourniquets, working against her struggling hands to dilate the blood vessels ready to be accessed by his IV needle and solution. He performed the veni-puncture with the ease of experience, securing the plastic tubing to her wrist with the same roll of duct tape that held the gag in her mouth. As the few cc's of Sodium Pentothal had its desired effect, her drive subsided.

*****

"But don't they ever make exceptions?"

"I asked the Commissioner…he said he'd put his two cents in but didn't sound optimistic. Don't expect much before tomorrow.” Pete's frustration echoed in the moments of silence following. "Apparently, they consider anything under that twenty-four hour window a false alarm."

"What the hell kind of protocol is that…?” Johnny reprimanded the powers that be.

"Just S.O.P. based on statistics and technical analysis, probably."

"Well that's not good enough!!!"

"Hey, John. Look, Pete isn't trying to defend them he's just telling it like it is."

"I know, Jim. I'm sorry, Pete. I guess I just had to yell at somebody.” He looked at the note on the coffee table, staring far beyond it, conceding his deepest source of remorse. "I can't believe I let this happen. "

"Come on, John…get a hold of yourself! You were doing a favor for a friend. Moral support…" Roy comforted placing a quiet hand on John's shoulder.

"If anybody dropped the ball it was me,” Pete offered after a moment of reflection. "So,Gentlemen…we can waste time assigning blame or we can look for answers. The way I see it…if we're gonna help Dixie, we need to find answers. And fast!"

"Yeah. And I know somebody else whose gonna have plenty of questions."

Everybody nodded, knowing full well about whom Roy was referring.

Johnny closed his eyes, his voice filled with dread. "I really don't want to be the one to face Kel Brackett with the news that Dixie's disappeared."

Silently, each of her friends had offered up prayers for the absent one, for their friend, Kelly Brackett, and for themselves facing the days and news to come. Each a little too afraid to speculate just how God would answer them.

*****

Kel Brackett strolled down the back corridor of Rampart General's emergency wing with one purpose. To be physically reunited with the woman of the photograph still in his pocket. Fully expecting to fulfill his mission, he had been frustrated thus far at his inability to connect with her even by phone. As he turned the corner toward the main entrance way he could sense stares which he attributed to his early appearance and perhaps his casual (but so fine) manner of dress; jeans and white button-down shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up a couple of times.

Opening the door to Room Three without any professional interest intended caused him slight uneasiness, but not enough to stop him. No Dix.

However, to his relief, Carol Johnson was apparently finishing some dressings and Joe was washing his hands.

"Hey, what does a person need to do to get some service in this place?"

They gave each other a knowing, uncomfortable glance.

Although Kel expected no red carpet, he was a little disappointed in the reserved welcome.

"Kel?!” Joe grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands. Joe put on a forced smile as he tried to muster some enthusiasm. "Welcome home." He offered him his dried hand. He lead Kel over to the microscope in the corner of the room. Something wrong with your calendar? You're not supposed to be back for another twenty-four hours," Joe fished, hoping Kel had heard the news. Obviously, he hadn't.

"No… I'm not really back in an official capacity…I'm just trying to track down Dix.” He said privately. " I tried calling her apartment from the airport, got no answer. I called the hospital. The operator said she was on the list to be called in and paged her for me, but no answer. I just figured you all were busy. Have you seen her, Joe?"

"No. No, I haven't, Kel.” Joe swallowed hard and deliberately. He calmly offered Kel, who was becoming noticeably uneasy, an exam chair. He looked over his friend's shoulder. "Carol, Mr. Jacobs can go directly to Med-Surg after X-Ray." He advised them, holding the door as she wheeled the patient from to the X-Ray department.

"Right, Doctor," She gave him a ‘Better-you-than-me' look which made Kel uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Carol. "

Joe left the seat open for Kel to take when he delivered the blow. He sensed his colleague's increasing anxiety.

"Kel.” He leaned against the exam table.

"What is it, Joe? What's wrong?"

Joe placed his on Kel's arm. "It's Dixie."

Mentally, Kel braced himself.

"She's missing."

Kel heard little else but forced himself to concentrate on Joe's words.

"Missing? What do you mean...missing?” Kel needed confirmation that he had heard correctly. "But I just talked to her on the phone yesterday...?” He rubbed his hands, welcoming any correction in misinterpretation.

Joe nodded affirmatively. "Betty called her into work yesterday afternoon…she never showed up."

"Maybe she never got the message…" He tried to remain calm.

"Betty talked to Dixie personally. Dixie told her she'd be in by three."

"She just …didn't show up?” It wasn't working. "She didn't call or anything?! That's not like Dixie. There must be some explanation…?” Joe allowed Kel to absorb his words. A few eternal seconds passed. "Are the police involved…?"

"Yes. Pete and Jim notified the FBI at three o'clock this afternoon.” Joe figured that he may as well go ahead and finish the full round of ammunition.

"FBI?” Kel was beginning to wring his hands which wasn't a positive sign. But then again, there was little to the situation that lent itself to positive thinking.

"Circumstances lead them to believe that Dixie's disappearance may be a kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?!" Disbelief formed in Kel's eyes, convinced this was all a nightmare. "Why?!! Who'd want to…?"

"Kel.” He measured his words carefully. "Somebody's been… well …bothering her with nuisance calls, cards and what not. At first, she thought it was just a prankster."

"I don't understand. Why didn't she say anything to me?"

"What could you have done?"

"Come the hell home!” He was struggling to keep his cool.

"Over a couple of cards or phone calls? You'd have aborted your mission and insulted Dixie if you had. And you know it! Besides, until a little over a week ago, she hadn't told anybody. She let Pete in on it when she realized he was listening to phone conversations."

"How long has this been going on, Joe?"

"Pretty much…ever since you left.” Joe knew what was coming.

Kel became pale. "I can't help but think I could have prevented this in some way."

"Really? How?” Joe scolded but yet allowed Kel to work through his emotions He was proud of his friend for not exploding. He defended. "She wasn't alone, Kel. Roy, Johnny, myself…all volunteered to stay with her…she had a list as long as your arm, Kel."

Kel gave him a look that begged him to continue to feed him information with which he could diagnose, and treat the problem. As Joe filled him in, Kel realized soberly that everything was being done that could possibly be enacted to find his girl in the photo.

*****

Dixie's mind was swimming in the ambiguity of sedation. Her existence afforded her only the awareness of burning, anger, and a pungent garlic,smell. Her mind sought footholds. Occasionally, she would sense a change in temperature, perhaps a slight breeze or draft. A word void of definition would enter her mind, then quickly leave. Breath moving in…breath moving out. Garlic. Anger. Sleep.

*****

"Look, Kel before we get too crazy, let's talk to Pete. Maybe there is some good news."

Just like Joe.

Kel conceded. "Okay…you're right."

"I gotta help Mike cover…um…are you going home?"

"No. I think I'll call Pete from my office…"

"Probably a good idea. Keep me posted and let me know before you leave."

"Okay. I'll be in my office."

"Okay.” Joe placed his hand on Kel's shoulder realizing he would probably have to be Kel's source of strength.

"You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah…” Kel forced the air from his throat, ignoring the crater in his stomach. "Gonna be…” he silently promised Dixie.

*****

"Miss Dixie?"

Her eyes clicked open focusing on wrists tightly restrained in clotted cloth wraps a few seconds of pain told Dixie they were hers. A fuzzy silhouette quickly darted into obscurity. The water from the shower was just a trickle more than a cold mist. She began to shiver finely, as her synapses resumed. She tried to ignore the nausea from the taste and smell of garlic not to mention the wad of whatever still stuffed in her mouth.

The light was a familiar shape…a television monitor screen. Even though Dixie's head was throbbing, she could recognize the skewed overhead angle view of Kel's office. A lonely, lovely figure was seated at the desk with his head buried in his hands. He picked up the phone. Familiar voices, electronically amplified, played louder than life in the background.

*****

"Pete?"

"Yeah.” He recognized the voice immediately. " Hi, Kel. I've been expecting your call. No offense but I haven't been looking forward to it."

Kel sighed following a long pause. "I don't even know where to start…what to ask."

"Well, that's a comfort because I don't know what to say…I'm sorry,Kel. We wanted to catch you at the airport. We weren't sure when you were arriving."

"It's probably best this way. I probably would have made a scene…"

"How'd you find out?"

"Joe."

How much did Kel really know? Pete had expected an irate hot-head on the other end of the line. This wasn't the Kel Brackett with whom he was used to dealing. Instead, Kel's quiet tone and manner reflected someone whose very soul ached.

"I have to do something…but I don't know what."

"Well, you can contact her family."

"Right. I'll call Verna. How do I explain…?” he offered somberly. "I mean what do I tell her?"

"Maybe you'd better wait until we know more"

' "I'd better tell them now…I'd rather they hear the news from me than from the reporters."

"I know you're not used to hearing this but it's out of your hands…mine too. Where are you calling from?"

"My office."

"Are you gonna be there a while? I'll stop over…we can talk."

"Could we meet at Dixie's apartment? I don't know why…I guess maybe it'll help me get a handle on things?"

"I wouldn't recommend that. You won't be able to get in anyway…"

"No, it's okay. I have a key."

"I know you have a key to her place…but...” Pete knew his words would sting, regardless of how he said them. "It's off limits now, Kel. It's a crime scene."

*****

"Looks like Dr. Brackett is feeling a bit impotent at the moment doesn't it? You deserve a real man, Dix." Michael's pleasure far exceeded any noxious stimulus of the Pentothal. " Relax, everything is moving along as planned right on schedule…in fact, we're running a little ahead of schedule.” He pushed the plunger another five cc's, battling his own power rush to unload the entire syringe into her burning veins. It was such a shame that he had to report to work.

*****

Tues. A Shift.

"Mornin' Roy. How was your weekend?” greeted Captain Stanley.

"I've had better, Cap."

"Yeah? Me too. I couldn't shake those kids out of my head. I can still picture the whole thing! It's even more vivid when I close my eyes. Crazy, huh?"

"No, it's not crazy, Cap,” Roy affirmed. Cap obviously hadn't heard the news. "Well…if you want to talk…my door--"

"-- I'm surprised you haven't heard about it on the news."

"It? What?"

"Dixie McCall disappeared sometime Saturday afternoon. The police suspect she was kidnapped."

Disbelief and confusion replaced the otherwise in-charge expression on his captain's face. "Dear God!" He searched for words. "John said somethin' on Friday night about spending some time with her--"

"Yeah, well. This kinda happened on his watch and he's takin' it pretty hard."

"Oh, no."

"She was takin' a nap, he fell asleep, she got called to work, didn't want to trouble him…decided to take the bus…That's the last anyone has heard from her."

"Nobody saw anything?” Cap was riveted with disbelief.

"Nope."

"In broad daylight?"

"Nothin."

"Unbelievable!!!"

"That's pretty much the sentiment.” Roy mirrored the Cap's disbelief.

"Unbelievable!” Cap repeated as his empathy shifted to his younger co-worker. "John must feel terrible! I feel terrible."

"Believe me he does. We all do. Do me a favor and don't say anything to him ‘till I've had a chance to talk to him some more."

"Sure. If I can do anything…” Cap's feeling of helplessness was evident. "God, this day went from bad to worse and it hasn't even started yet!!” He headed into his office.

Roy rounded the corner to the lockers and sure enough, there changing clothes was his partner. He knew better than to try and make small talk when the air was this thick.

"No word, huh?” Roy assessed from Johnny's flattened affect.

Johnny sighed. "Uh-uh."

"Look, I know what you're thinkin' and you can't. You can't go on blamin' yourself like this …it doesn't do anybody any good."

"I'm sorry…I just can't help it."

"Look,Cap knows. I'm sure the guys have heard it on the news. It's okay to talk about it with them. We're family…"

"I know. You're right.” John tried to smile. "Thanks."

*****

"Station 51. Child trapped. 12507 Central Blvd. Time-out seven thirty-five.' "Station 51 KMG-365."

The rescuers arrived assessing the situation gathering important information from critical first glimpses of the scene. A child, six or so…on a fifth story balcony…not moving very much if at all…her head trapped in the iron bars of a window railing.

Bystanders were there--lots...nobody appearing to be a substantial resource person. Cap ran over to the crowd.

"Who called it in? Does anybody know who called the fire department?” pleaded Captain Stanley. "Somebody put me on a planet where there are parents please?! "

"I don't know who called but I'm glad you're here. She hasn't been movin' very much the last few minutes.” A voice came forward from the curious mass collected. "She was screamin her head off when I got here."

"How long has that been?"

"Oh, I'd say about ten minutes…or so…"

"Gage, DeSoto, inside! Kelly… ?"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Grab the tools! We'll follow Gage and DeSoto."

"Right Cap!” Chet yelled already running to gather the equipment. He held the handy-talkie to his lips. "LA, this is Station 51. Respond an ambulance to this location."

Cap followed his crew up the steps to the fifth floor.

Roy pounded on the door. "Fire Department!!” He shouted. "Cap, we got a hot door!"

"HT 51. This is Engine 51, we have smoke showing out the window of the apartment.” Mike reported.

"Confirmed Engine 51. Charge the standpipe! Get a high-rise pack and air packs to the fifth floor on the double! We got a hot door up here. LA, Engine 51. Respond a full first alarm assignment to this location…"

Marco arrived with the charged line from the high rise pack.

"Our knight in shining turn-out! Hit the door, Marco!!"

"Chet?"

"Yeah?"

"Break and enter, Pal! Let's go!"

Adrenaline surged as the team of firemen once again transformed their efforts into an apparatus of heroism, determined to free its prize from the throws of peril.

*****

With the assistance from two snorkels and engines, the increasingly comatose child was freed and lowered to safety one hour from when the original alarm sounded. Evacuation was complete. Salvage and clean-up were underway. Skillfully, and thankfully, damage was limited to two apartments. "LA. Battalion 14. This fire is under control all units out two hours…"

"Rampart this is Squad 51."

"Go ahead 51,” answered the familiar coarse voice of Kelly Brackett.

Johnny, momentarily taken back, gave a surprised look to Roy and continued. "Rampart, We have a female victim, approximately six years of age…unconscious. Pupils dilated but equal…sluggishly reactive to light . Her tongue has been freed from her airway which is patent….respiration rate eight…we are assisting… We are administering O2 at six liters/min…BP 86/54. Pulse 110. Victim apparently had head and neck stuck between metal bars for about …we're guessing about forty-five minutes."

"51, start an IV D5W TKO, continue to watch the airway and transport."

No sooner had Johnny received the set of orders from the physician the child began to elicit signs of increased levels of consciousness. Within a couple of breaths became ungratefully combative… fully determined not to grant them IV access.

"Rampart victim has become combative, making the IV an impossibility…"

"Your airway okay?"

"Affirmative,” Johnny confirmed allowing the audible screaming child in the background to report the obvious..." "Then she probably doesn't need the IV either….continue to monitor airway…continue oxygen at whatever you can keep on her…and transport. We'll worry about the IV when she gets here."

'Ten-four, Rampart! Just FYI…the child has been placed in protective custody by the attending police officer…"

"Ten-four, 51. I'll alert legal council from this end."

"Ten-four, Rampart…appreciate it."

*****

Kelly Brackett followed the gurney into the treatment room. He wasn't surprised to see the oxygen mask pouring its life sustaining element directly into the little girl's pants pocket. "Interesting method of delivery."

"We're lucky she's even laying down."

"Well, that makes our task a lot less complicated."

"She's one strong little girl."

She moved herself to the examination table, cautiously and silently.

"It's okay..." offered Kel. "I'm not gonna do anything to you that's gonna hurt you."

Silence. Her frightened reserve begged the doctor to put his money where his mouth was.

"Promise," Kel followed.

Silence.

"I'm Dr. Brackett.” Kel pulled his stethoscope from his lab coat pocket. "What's your name?"

Silence.

"'Do you hurt anywhere?"

Silence.

"Well, this is a called a stethoscope. I'm just gonna listen to your breathing. It doesn't hurt."

Silence. She drew back, but then relaxed a little.

"That's it. Just take some nice deep breathes . There now. That didn't hurt, did it?"

Silence.

"Your turn.” He placed the earpieces of the stethoscope in her ears and held the bell to her heart.

"Hear it?"

She smiled and nodded. Dixie would have been proud.

"Let's see…” Kel folded his arms across his chest. "Let's see…… If Dixie were here…" He thought out loud.

"Are you married?"

The little girl smiled and shook her head.

"Bet you have a boyfriend…"

"I don't believe it, Doc.” Johnny was amazed. This little exchange was almost…medicinal….a therapeutic refuge from the nightmare. He would tuck this experience away for future reference.

"Dixie always taught me to ask direct questions. Nursing 101…with a little McCall flare."

"Do you drive?"

Her smile widened as she let out a giggle.

"What's your name?"

"Raquel."

"That's a pretty name,” contributed Johnny.

"Raquel Audrey Mitchell.” She became a little more bold.

"But mommy calls me ‘Kel'...sometimes ‘Kelly'…mostly ‘Kel'."

"Oh?! Kelly, huh?” He couldn't resist. "No kidding! That's my name too!"

It took some work to convince the child that the physician wasn't just teasing…or that a grown man and a little girl could own the same nickname and hold onto their individual identity.

"Well just so we don't confuse things…why don't I call you Raquel?"

"But I like being Kelly. I wanna be Kelly.” Her radiant smile and determined eyes argued volumes, reminding him of another's. He again pushed aside the gnawing ache.

"Okay. Tell you what…I'll call you ‘Kelly' and you can call me ‘Dr. Kelly'. How's that sound?” He countered her charm with his own.

She nodded, smiling. Johnny waved Roy quietly into the room.

"Where's your mommy, Raquel-Kelly??"

She shrugged . "She goes away sometimes. I think she gets lost.” Her head dropped as her spirit began to withdraw.

The men's hearts sank.

Maybe this wasn't quite the distraction for which Johnny had hoped.

"Well, Kelly,” Kel was determined to extend and secure the bond of trust. "I'll let you in on a secret. I've got somebody whose very special to me who's lost too right now. I hurt worse on the inside than I've ever hurt on the outside. I have a feeling you do too…don't you?" He proceeded to remove the photo from his wallet.

*****

"She's pretty. What's her name?"

The physician fought to maintain his valiance. "Dixie."

"She looks like…an angel."

"She is." In self defense, he knew it was time to direct his focus back to medicine. "Can you sit up for me please? I want to listen to your breathing again.” Kel noticed nasty bruises on her torso. He sighed heavily. "How'd you get these, Kelly?"

Her mood changed dramatically.

"I fell,” she defended. "Well, young lady, we need to take some pictures of you. The machine is awfully big but it doesn't hurt you."

"Promise?"

"Promise." "Will you come with me?” she asked. Kel looked at Johnny and back at the little girl.

"This is Carol. She's a nurse and a good friend of mine. She can go with you while I take care of some other patients. But I'll be here when you get back."

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

Carol and the attendant entered the room with the wheel chair. The Good Doctor lifted the girl in his arms and gently seated her in the wheelchair. Her arm lingered around his neck as she caught his eyes one more time. "Dr. Kelly?"

"'Yes, Kelly?"

"I hope you find your angel."

"Thanks. I hope you find yours too."

He sensed her reluctance in letting go. "S'okay. I'll be here," he reassured her as he opened the door for her escorts.

"Thanks, Carol. Thanks…Michael…is it?"

*****

Johnny and Roy accepted Kel's invitation for coffee in his office.

"Looks like you made a friend for life, Doc."

"Don't tell Dix…but sometimes it pays to beat around the bush." He offered Johnny a comforting smile.

"Yeah. I guess it does."

"What went on in there with that little girl--was pretty incredible, Doc. How…?” Johnny asked.

"A little trick I've been playing on myself ever since I was in Africa. I got pretty homesick …for Dix…just like I am right now… I just supposed that the patient lying there was Dixie. I would care for the patient…just like I would for her. It must sound pretty strange…but it works."

"No, Doc. That doesn't sound strange at all.” Roy offered.

"If you ask me? I'd say it sounds pretty damn noble.” Johnny choked.

"It's uh…changed my perspective in caring for people.” Kel nodded, obviously struggling for composure, but pursued his point. "It's pretty amazing…once in a while a person like her comes along and continues to change lives…even in her absence."

"Yeah.” Johnny was astounded. "She's one in a million."

"Nah…she's once in a lifetime!"

*****

Dixie's eyes welled with longing. She recognized the intonations of Kel's voice, allowing his words to bathe her in warmth, knowing and praying they would be forever forged in her memory. Her mind fought the desire to fall back asleep, determined to permit Kel's love for her heal any damage "Trevor"had tried to inflict. She listened.

*****

"Doc, I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Johnny admitted. "For what?"

"I fell asleep on the job…let Dix down…"

Kel shook his head. "I know where you're coming from, Johnny. I'm struggling with the same thing. I blame myself for allowing this to happen…but…let's give Dix more credit than that. We both know she's intelligent and independent…capable as anyone I know. Her autonomy is one of her strongest assets. If we blame ourselves…we strip Dixie of her that. So right now…I'm chosing not to do that."

"That's tough to live by right now."

"Yes, it is. But that's the only thing that's preventing me from going crazy."

Johnny placed a supportive hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"God, I miss her.” Kel bowed his head--not in surrender to his sorrow, but as if to pause to garner strength.

"Yeah. I know you do, Doc. I don't know if I could see the situation that way."

"Don't get me wrong. I'm battling with the son-of-a-bitch inside of me that wants to kill this bastard. But I don't think that will help Dix. Not yet anyway."

"I still admire your courage…you're quite a man, Doc. I certainly understand what someone like Dixie …sees in someone like you."

"Thanks, Johnny."

*****

Wednesday, 7:45 am.

The shift ended allowing them an unusual night's rest. Roy took Johnny to his Land Rover, still parked in the parking lot of Dixie's parking complex. It had remained there after Pete graciously offered John his company and hospitality the night of Dixie's abduction.

"Thanks for the ride,” Johnny offered his partner. "I realize it's a bit out of your way."

"No problem. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I can't spend the entire rest of my life mooching off of Officer Malloy's hospitality. Besides I do pathetic for only so long before my welcome wears thin."

"I'd hardly call two days an imposition. Besides, you were probably as much a comfort for him as he was for you."

"I hope so. I'd like to think I could do something worthwhile…” Johnny closed the door to Roy's car and reached in his pocket for the keys.

"I thought we had a talk about that?"

"Yes, we did. So did Pete and Dr. Brackett!” He turned to unlock his door. About three spaces down from Johnny's Land Rover, the breeze had blown away a pile of leaves revealing a leather strap.

"Well, I had hoped we had the issue--"

"--Roy!!!"

"What?! What is it?!” Roy wondered why his lanky friend was darting away from his vehicle.

"Roy. Come here! Look! I'ts Dixie's purse!"

"Huh ?" He followed likewise. "Wait--don't touch it! The police may need to …run some tests on it."

"Call Pete and Jim!"

"Huh? Where is he?"

"At work. Never mind. I'll call him.” As he ran toward the building, a flashback of several days ago surfaced.

Boy, that guy was stupid! Price Janitorial Services. Industrial. Commercial. Residential…

"Roy!!!"

Chapter 6: Expansion

"Let me talk to her!"

"You're so used to giving orders, Brackett!"

"I need to know she's okay!" Kel pleaded, clutching the receiver.

"No, you need to be very careful," The voice interrupted.

"Please, let me talk to her!"

"Go over to the door and open it."

"What?!"

"You're sitting with your butt on the corner of your desk. I want you to walk over to the door and open it and stand there," he said rhythmically.

"But wh--" How does he know? He looked up, searching for a camera.

"Do as I say or I'm hanging up. You won't hear from me for another month!"

"Okay, okay. The door's open." Kel was confused.

"Now, get on your knees!"

"What?!"

"You heard me! Get on your knees!"



Kel couldn't see Dixie close her tearing eyes in humiliation.



"Okay, okay…anything you say… I'm on my knees. Now let me talk to her."

"Uuhhhh," Moriarty played, "strip to your briefs!"

Kel, seeing where this charade was headed, resolved to follow through no matter what the cost. At least it would afford him peace of mind that she was still alive.

"Faster!"

"All right! I gotta drop the receiver--" He clumsily pried off his shoes.

The thud echoed in the cold damp cement walls of the room, causing Dixie to cringe.



He replaced it immediately upon flinging his shirt to the floor. His pants followed.

"Nice boxers! Nice tan. I'm impressed… as I'm sure are the onlookers," he toyed. "Any of them physicians?"

Kel overrode his gut reaction to shout You tell me. Instead, he answered. "A couple."

"Nurses?"

"A few--look!" Patience, Kel! he warned himself.

"Ah, ah, ah, Kel. Who's in the driver's seat?" he teased, as his adrenaline level skyrocketed. "Now…say please!"

"Please. "

"Louder."

"Please!" He begged.

"We can't hear you Kelly!"

"PLEASE!" Wait a minute! Kel thought out loud. WE?! Does that mean Dix can hear? He had to try. " Dix, can you hear me?!! Are you all right?! PLEASE! Just let me talk to her!"

*****

Her shoulders heaved under muted sobs. Fearing she could take little more of Kel's disgrace, she prayed for a few burning cc's of Pentothal to obtund this nightmare.

*****

"Heh, heh, heh. She can't come to the phone right now. She's...uh…tied up at the moment."

Click.

Not knowing what was overcoming his friend Joe ran to Kel's assistance as patients and workers looked on him in confusion.

*****

A week of nothing. Now this. A week's worth of federal investigation, uncovering only a purse and nebulous facts. Now this. A week's worth of "no news is bad news". Now this. A week's worth of dwindling expectations. Now this.

*****

"Well, it's something. Right, Pete?" Joe offered, trying to encourage himself as well as his colleague. Throughout the course of the week, he had ridden the tides of emotion with his friend, Kelly Brackett.

"Yeah...it's something," Pete sighed, careful not to offer too much encouragement. "Our boy was even busier in your absence than we thought. Apparently, just having Dixie at his disposal isn't his main objective."

"Somebody with a vendetta against me--and making Dixie pay." Kel wringed his hands, wrestling his fury.

"What now?" Joe directed the focus, sensing Kel's deteriorating ability to suppress his anger.

"I'll call Zimmer and his feds." Pete leveled. "In the meantime, make a list of your enemies."

"Enemies?!"

"Well…just start with the people you've offended severely…sounds like he's got a grudge against you personally rather than anything you did to injure him physically."

"'You want them listed alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of social rank?"

"That many, huh?"

"That many," Joe contributed, ignoring the levity.

"At least I'm not alone then, " Pete added as an afterthought. "Oh…better add admin on the bottom. They're not gonna be too thrilled when they see what Uncle Sam's gonna do to your office." He sipped his cooling coffee. "Better notify O'Brien or whomever. Unfortunately, they'll probably--literally--destroy it, looking for this guy's equipment."

"Let 'em," Kel said bluntly, hearing his named paged to receive a call from an outside line. He stood beside the coffee machine and dialed the pound (#) key.

"Thought I might find you here. Don't go settin' up a makeshift office somewhere else. You want to talk to Dixie? It'll be in Room 127! I'm a little bit ahead of you and your merry men, Brackett. By the way…anybody comes looking to hurt my toys…somebody else's toy gets hurt. I'll even let you listen to her scream!" he amused himself.

Click.

Slam!

*****

"Looks like your pretty boy is stuck between a rock and a hard place," he teased as he ripped the tape again from her face, her cheeks reddened from irritation. "I'm interested in your comments."

Dixie glared.

*****

"So which was worse?" Moriarty toyed. "When he had to inform your momma...?" He rewound the reel-to-reel tape, as the red light flashed to yellow.
This has to be a nightmare,, Dixie thought.


"Hi. Verna?"

"Yes."

"This is Kel."

"Yes, I know, honey. How have you been? How was your trip?"

His sigh was audible over the phone, realizing her bubble of enthusiasm would soon evaporate. "Verna…do you have company?" He didn't want her to be alone when he told her the news.

"Just Jess and Nancy stopped by…"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Oh?"

It's Dixie."

"Is she marrying somebody else?" She tried to inject one last line of bravery before she was felled, and steeled herself.

"No." He appreciated the fond comment.

"What's wrong, Kel?"


Moriarty fast-forwarded the tape to the end of the conversation as the light on the camera switched from red to green. Dixie closed her eyes, praying for someway to escape mentally, even reminding herself that she was merely watching a replay, but could only visualize her mother, tearful and frightened. Dixie sought positives. She was proud of the woman, even in distress, whom she called "Mom,' realizing that she had inherited this woman's strength of character. She opened her eyes.


Verna reassured him that she would be fine and declined Kel's offer to visit, even encouraging him to stay and fulfill his role at Rampart--that was where he could do the most good. She offered her presence as well and reassured him that she was strong enough to tell Dixie's brother. After Kel promised her to keep abreast of the situation, she thanked him and in her usual comforting manner added, "…if you need me for anything..."

"Thanks, Verna." He hung up the phone as a wave of guilt battered him.

"Damn!" Kel knew that following the click of the receiver, the brave woman on the other end would be crying.

Kel bowed his head. Closed his eyes.


The red light on the camera flashed to yellow once again, as the tape was cued to the next painful act of the "play".


"Or how about when Kel had to call his sister-in-law? Sounds like she better double up on her anti-depressant before she tells little Charlie. After his father's death, he could use a real role model. 'Good ol' Uncle Kel' is a little preoccupied at the moment. My, my, my. If only he could see his hero now. " He chuckled as he toyed with a picture of Kel in his 'Daddy's Ice Cream' baseball jersey, still sporting his hat to the back, smiling proudly, hunkered down beside his five-year-old nephew, holding his T-ball trophy. Dixie had kept it in her bedside stand. It was one of her favorites, always reminding her of his playful side (much to the disbelief of others) and his ability to light up a child's eyes as well as fire up the T-ball diamond. The fact that Moriarty had this prize in his possession violated Dixie yet again.


Although she was seething, Dixie composed her thoughts She decided that it was better to remain silent behind a façade of speechlessness rather than say what she was actually thinking and risk the consequences. She had to come up with a mental strategy of her own. She began to organize the information. Okay, he took the gag off. That means he risked having me yell my head off… we must be out in the middle of nowhere...a long way away from the hospital…probably at least thirty minutes…

*****

Moriarty droned on. "The chat with little 'Kelly' was touching. I think our boy's getting quite attached to the tyke. Let's review, shall we? The angle is a little off...but this was inspiration on short notice." The cameras had been planted in the sprinkler system easily during the girl's sleeping hours.

"Enter…the hero! Or more appropriately, 'Zero'! Yes, 'Zero.' He was rather pleased with himself. "And…action!" Two clicks from the machine introduced the entrance.

*****

Kel poked his head in the door, smiling when he found her asleep. He walked over to her beside and just observed her. She stirred. To prevent startling her, he stepped back and gently placed a hand on her wrist. Her eyes fluttered open.

She smiled.

"Hi, Dr. Kelly."

"Hi, Kelly. How are you feeling?" He found her smile to be a little glimmer of joy. Kel sat on the bed, propping his hands on her chart.

"Good!"

"Good. Still have your headache?"

"A little."

"You've been getting quite a few headaches recently, haven't you?"

She nodded.

"I thought so…" He placed the chart on her bed-side stand and a hand on hers. "Kelly…the pictures we took of your head showed a little...mass…like a marbl--" He fumbled, searching for words she might understand.

"A tumor?" she corrected.

"Mmm-hmm. Do you know what that is?" Kel's surprise even caught Raquel's attention.

"It's a lump in my head," she remembered.

"Then…you already know you have one?"

"Yep."

"How long have you known this?!" His question was abrupt and his voice becoming increasingly elevated, alarming the little girl he came to comfort. For Kel, the pathway from surprise to distress was not necessarily short but so well traveled recently, that any more the two coordinates were one in the same. "When did you find out?!" Lighten up with the interrogation, Kel. She's just a little girl. A soothing, familiar voice from the depth of his heart spoke silently to him.

"Last summer when…I had to go to the hospital. I got hurt…when I fell."

He forced himself to relax his clenching fist that held the youngster's hand, but his frustration level was taking off. In fact, he'd been at cruising altitude for quite some time. "Did you really fall?" Easy, Kel.

She withdrew.

Another approach then."What hospital did you go to?"

"The one beside the water..."

"Harbor General?"

She nodded, still looking away.

"Maybe I can talk to the doctor who took your picture..."

"You mean X-ray?"

"Yes." Kel smiled sadly at her depth of understanding.

"Am I gonna get to go home soon?'

"We're gonna keep you here a while until we can figure out what to do about that marble in your head."

"Dr. Parr said he was gonna upper-rate me."

"Dr. Parr, huh?" Dear God, please watch out for this child…somebody has to…you're the Great Physician…just hold onto this tumor till someone can get to it! "Why didn't you have the operation?"

"I don't know. Mommy went away again after that."

"Where did she go?" Irrelevant, Doctor.

Raquel shrugged.

"Who do you stay with?" Who takes care of you?!"

The little girl dropped her head, tired of this line of questioning she asked her own. "Did you find your angel yet, Dr. Kelly?"

"No. Not yet." Kel sighed, wondering how he was going to come out of this one. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll pray for her. Will you listen? I know God is listening…but it's nice if I have somebody here with me…I mean, I like it when somebody tucks me in."

Kel sighed again. "Sure." He swallowed hard. He hadn't really said his prayers since he found out about Dixie's disappearance. He had been too angry.

She sat erect as if waiting for something.

Kel's inquisitive expression required an answer.

"Aren't we gonna kneel? We're talkin' to God, you know."

"I think He'll understand."

"I don't want to take any chances." She hopped to the side of her bed with the agility of her youth, and tugged on his lab coat.

For the second time in as many days, Kelly Brackett was on his knees. Maybe Somebody's trying to tell me something.

*****

"Awww...touching." Moriarty's monotone indifference was accosting. "He's had a rough week!" He scoffed. " I think my favorite moment was when he was sobbing on the phone to Daddy. You could hear the shame in his father's voice, huh?"


She coughed as he removed the sock. She shook her head, determined to erase his lies. Her windpipe fought to control the breath that passed through her vocal cords. Unable to hold back, with the intent to shout, she only hoarsely crowed. "There….was shock …and dis…belief…" The air sliced the back of her throat. "But no shame!" She forced out in one breath. "Trevor."

"Michael. The name's Michael! And…I heard shame and disgust at his son who stripped himself of his masculinity and wept like a baby. I recognize the tone…it was in my father's voice whenever he addressed me."
real man like Kelly Brackett to tears! What do you want?! You have me…can't you let him alone?" Dixie pleaded.

"A bit defensive…good. Good." He laughed, to Dixie's disgust. "On the contrary…this is not about what I want. It's about justice. Humility for humility. You are bearing witness to that as are his colleagues, patients. Pain and suffering for pain and suffering. Congratulations, Miss Dixie. You are his pain and for that he is suffering. Masterful, isn't it?"

"Elaborate? Premeditated? Yes." Dixie's jaw was still aching. "Masterful? That remains to be seen."

"In what way?!"

"Masterful implies you're in control. You're out of control." Too far, Dix...

"I'll show you control!" He walked over and struck her with his fist along side of the face. "I could kill you right now. I…could even kill him right now and have you watch." He changed gears. "You want to feel control…? I'll give it to you! You decide…does your precious Kelly Brackett die this instant…or slowly and painfully…losing everything! You want control…you got it." He mimicked and nodded his head, as the flame from the lighter consumed the photo and fueled Dixie's determination.

"Tell me!"

Okay, Dix. Keep your mouth shut. Use your head. Let him guess submission. Tears streamed down her face.

"ANSWER ME!" Another blow. Tears streamed down her face.

Angry tears. Chosen silence. Let him guess submission. Let the tears sting, Dix, came some strong, but tender advice from a strong but gentle voice tucked within her soul.

"That's what I thought. He dies NOW!"

"NO!!" Careful, Dix!!

"How's that for control?! Hmmm? I may just send a tape of that to your 'hero'. Suppose he's rallying the troups right now? Suppose so…police…FBI…form a posse… Don't worry, they'll rescue you. I have every confidence they will. In fact, I'm counting on their arrival! You see…I'm gonna be ready for them! Parrrrty, baby! I'm gonna lead them right to you--us--er, you…whatever!" He spat as he spoke in her face. "Which hurts worse now, Dix? Your face or your soul? Who aches more…you or Kel? Who's in control, Miss Dixie?!" The machete gleamed in the artificial light. Moriarty held it to her cheek.

The soft mighty voice from within said, Let the tears sting, Dix. Just hang on. It'll be okay. Somehow.

*******

"No more ropes." He slashed the restraints binding her forearms. "No more Sodium Pentothal." He removed the catheter, allowing it to bleed. Instinctively, Dixie applied her own hand for direct pressure over her reddened and very tender puncture to help stop the bleeding.

"See this little metal bracelet, Dixie?" He placed one around either of her tender wrists and ankles, now independent of constricting gauze and rope. Although the freedom afforded her muscles relief from pain, rope burns aside, she could only wonder what was next. He was all too anxious and delighted to inform her.

"That's gonna tell all of Los Angeles that you've gone too far…because somewhere…might be Kel's office, his house, his car…his little girl friend… something's gonna explode! And the ironic element is that his phone electronically replicates and implants the device and the detonation sequence! Beautiful, isn't it?" He giggled and repeated. "First ring…the electrical impulse itself implants the explosive…second ring transmits the deto sequence and puts it on stand-by....another ring and its activated. From that point on it's all up to you. So he decides who you blow up! Might be Verna…might be Pete…the police station…it's so random but yet so personal! Think I'm bluffing? Just try me. Or better yet…if I might direct your attention to the monitor screen number three…"

The screen came up, viewing a fairly innocent setting.

"Now…walk through that doorway."

"What?!"

"Walk through that doorway…or put your hand out this window."

"Okay…I believe you! I won't go anywhere…I don't want anyone to get hurt!"

"Do it."

"I won't try to escape! This isn't necessary…please!"

"DO IT NOW!!!!" He grabbed her hair, pulling her across the room. As her legs and feet were reacquainted with the weight of her body, she staggered, and fell through the doorway. The camera followed, as its tiny red and yellow lights stared.

*****

Station 51. Station 36. Station 73. Battalion 14. Tower 28. Explosion and fire. Rampart General Hospital. Time-out, 10:57.

"Station 51, KMG-365.
Chapter 7: Explosion
The entire desk shook resounding with Kel’s fury upon finding tucked in his top desk drawer, a manila envelope with the word ‘BOOM!’Its contents--a picture of Dixie torn into pieces, and a picture of her present condition, accompanied by the sound of her being struck repeatedly. The time for slamming drawers, books, doors and whatever had arrived.Kel’s anger had been gathering force for almost three weeks…he hadn’t seen Dixie in seven.

He could handle the newly lain pile of charcoal in the parking lot, formerly his Jaguar (and three other vehicles). In fact, he was extremely thankful that no one was injured in the blast whose concussion shook everything within a three block perimeter. His rage was fueled by the frustration that he and Dixie were at the mercy of a violent lunatic …not only proving to be evasive, but also reckless.

Why hasn’t anybody been able to put anything together? They have an idea of the type of equipment ‘Trevor’ must be using.Probably military issue.Probably black market.Probably purchased within the last two years. Probably...Probably…Probably…

His stealth tactics were also possibly military ‘issue’, possibly even of ‘operative’ quality.

…Possibly…possibly...possibly...

Kel ran his hand through his hair as he sighed in exasperation.He really didn’t want to be in his office for it was no longer his safe haven. But if his being there in Room 127 afforded him any chance of talking to Dixie, he would submit to its confines. However, he left the door open, allowing an unintentional invitation to anyone including an occasional curious or lost visitor…or perky passers-by one of which was standing welcome at his door.

"Everything okay?" Joe inquired in response to the slam audible down the hall.

"No. No, Joe. Everything is not okay." Kel cupped his face in his hands.

"Another memo?"

"I suppose you could call it that…"He tossed theenvelope at Joe.

"Trevor has to work on his delivery, huh?"

"No, I’d say the impact is …quite effective."

Joe looked through it’s contents not wanting to waste too much time. Kel was right.The result was hauntingly effective.

"Trash it?"Joe asked.

"Huh-uh. Pete’s collecting everything."

He returned it to Kel’s desk.He offered himself a seat."Got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure.I’m just waiting for a page from Mike when 51 gets here with their ‘train wreck’?"

"Train wreck--?"

"Thirty year old OD.Jumped something like ten, fifteen stories…probably DOA."

"Oh…I see." Joe reconsidered his timing then acknowledged that there was no good time to offer his advice.

"What’s up?"

"Word has it our little friend has some big problems."

"Yeah." He had become accustomed to switching gears smoothly without grinding out the clutch. "What are your thoughts, Joe?"

"Well...could be any number of things…"Joe sensed he was treading near hopes of eggshells, regardless of Kel’s forced professional demeanor."Maybe just a cyst...on the other hand… it could be a low-grade medulloblastoma,...or astrocytoma…we’ll know more once we get in there."

"In other words she’s gonna need surgery."

"Yes. Ugly words…especially in reference to a six year old."

The diagnoses, medulloblastoma, and astrocytoma carried bleak prognoses, causing Kel to look up and grimace, revealing his growing sentiment toward the patient.

"Kel, I know you’ve become quite fond of her… but as your friend and colleague… I strongly suggest that you distance yourself from this." He rubbed his hands together slowly but anxiously, not comfortable with his delivery of what he knew was hard truth.

"You’re not suggesting I ditch a patient?"

"No, of course not. I’m not suggesting you abandon her ..."He knew the response he would be receiving but he had to try. "I am recommending that you don’t get any more attached than you are already. Your emotional plate is full, Kel.You can’t afford another strain.You’re running out of room!"

"I’m her physician, Joe.I’m fine. And I’m fully aware and in control of my emotions."

"You know as well as I do…you’re putting yourself out on a limb on this one. Let somebody else handle her case."

"She’s counting on me, Joe. I could very well be all she’s got."

"Any word from her mother?"

"Mother? What mother walks off at the drop of a syringe…and leaves a six year old to fend for herself?" He interrupted himself and lowered his head. "I’m sorry that’s not fair…I’m speculating about the ‘syringe’…but I do know she leaves her six year child alone an awful lot." He returned his gaze toward his friend waiting for rebuke.

"Okay then, I’ll follow her."

"I thought about it…" Kel acknowledged. "But, Joe, I can’t just drop a six year old girl like that."Kel realized he was pleading for Joe’s approval, not his understanding. Kel already had that.. "Besides, what makes you any less vulnerable…?"

"—I’m not saying I’m any less vulnerable…I have a larger emotional capacity to take on her case right now."Joe reproached lightly.

"She needs me Joe."

"To which ‘she’ are you referring? The one in the hospital? Or the one that probably needs to be in one? If--when Dixie comes home, are you going to be in any condition to help her and be there for her ? Do you think it’s going to be to her advantage in any way if you allow yourself to be completely destroyed? I’m not just talking about your possessions.I’m talking about you....and what makes you tick …this guy’s after your very soul."

"What would Dix want me to do with her? What would she do, Joe?You know Dixie isn’t one to compromise.A little girl’s well-being is at stake here.She has to undergo an operation that no one let alone a child should have to go through.She needs somebody. Look at me and tell me that Dixie would turn her head the other way...!"

Joe conceded the point. "You’re right. But I also know Dix would understand that she couldn’t do anyone any good if she compromised her emotional well-being. You’re reaching out when you should be a little more self protective, Kel."

Kel’s response was defensive but expected. "Everything I am--everything that matters to me-- is being held captive by a madman whose only desire for ransom is my destruction!And there is nothing I can do about the situation but surrender it to the ‘authorities.’ I have a chance to make a difference here in a little girl’s life, Joe.--Maybe make it better in some way.I can actually do something for somebody besides just going through empty motions."

"Look, I realize what you’re trying to do...and it’s veryhonorable…but who are you doing it for? For Dix? For a little girl? Or for yourself?"

Joe saw that the issue was beyond debate. Kel’s emotion had already been invested and was non-refundable. "I understand." Joe opened his hands, conceding the point. "I understand." He repeated but continued to caution. "But I’m also right. And…you know that!You need to be very very careful. " Joe sighed heavily. "Why don’t you take some time off---?"He blurted out to Kel’s disappointment.

"Did O’Brien put you up to this or is this your professional observation."

" Merely a suggestion, my friend!"Joe’s frustration was with his friend was evident.

"Look, I promise…if I feel myself slipping...she’s all yours." Kel negotiated.Both knew this was a shallow water promise.

"As long as you don’t wait too long…I don’t want to have to bale you out of quicksand...again."

"What do you mean…again?"

"Last time you made me that promise…it was in reference to a certain Emergency Room nurse.I haven't been too successful in that rescue."He rose and headed out the door.

‘Dr. Brackett... Room Five. Dr. Brackett…Room Five."
Talk about going through the motions…

*****

Kel nodded to Carol, cueing her to shroud the young woman’s beaten, fallen remains…the victim of her final needle track. This one had sent her plummeting twelve stories to her unstoppable destruction.

Mike Morton turned off the now unnecessary monitors and equipment.

"Damn it!" He whispered to himself, looking into the corner of the room. Everyone jumped as Kel slammed the metal mayo tray of bloody surgical instruments into the wall.

"Kel—there was nothing more we could do!"

"Save it, Mike!" Kel wasn’t sure just what made him angrier…the fact that a woman would waste so much, or that he, himself hadn’t gotten his hopes up yet again.Maybe if he had expected more, he would have tried harder…maybe…"

Roy and John stood speechless but not surprised at the long overdue explosion.

I just want her back! Kelly’s insides were screaming. He sighed as his neurons knotted to conserve what was left of his self-control.

"I’m sorry." He softly apologized to the witnesses. He glanced over at the bloody mess on the floor beneath the patient, then at the instruments sent there by his tantrum. "I’ll get those. You’re free to go Carol."

She looked at him sympathetically. He returned a strained and sour smile, revealing his level of disparagement.It was becoming increasingly apparent, the extent to which the pressure was mounting.

Kel was being crushed beneath the weight of his circumstances, ready to explode.

He slowly stooped to the floor and collected the scattered shrapnel.Roy quietly came to his assistance.

Johnny lifted the handy talkie to his lips to notify the dispatch of their availability but found himself only exhaling frustration.He dutifully proceeded."LA…Squad 51 available."

"Doc?"

"--I’m okay Roy." Kel replied curtly, fully expecting the gentle hero beside him to deliver one of his tender "We-did-everything-we-could-Doc" speeches for which Kel was not remotely in the mood. He lightly tossed the spilled steel utensils back onto the metal tray.

Roy’s demeanor never changed as he broke the news. "Doc?"he repeated. "We…um found her in the alley behind Kelly’s apartment building…"Roy added softly, receiving the tray from the Doctor in preparation for the rug to be pulled from beneath his friend’s feet once again.

"Oh God." Kel prayed, dropping his head. Knowing full-well what was coming next.

"Vince said… they think there’s a strong possibility this may be the little girl’s mother."

Kel walked over to the woman and pulled the shroud from her face…the recognizable features she had passed on to her little girl assailed him with the truth.He replaced the sheet.

His hands wiped his face in frustration as he, himself, wondered just how much longer this underlying tension would continue to build...and how much longer he would be able to endure it.

His ‘little trick’ was running out of magic. He had spent too much time continually, wrestling withhis longing for Dixie’s safe return.His introspection did serve to remind him that before he found himself feeling too persecuted he should remember his obligation to the true victim in this case. Raquel. Kel realized it was, indeed, his duty to overcome his afflictions whether or not they seemed surmountable. For this, he would need assistance…divine assistance.

He stood.

"I’ll be in my office."


*****

After refilling their depleted stock, Johnny silently gestured to Roy to stop at Kel’s office before leaving the hospital. Roy knocked on the frame.

"Can we come in?" Roy asked.

Kel looked up at the two. "I wouldn’t recommend it.God only knows how this place has been booby-trapped."

"We’ll risk it."

Kel rose and extended his arm bidding the two gentlemen to sit down.

"Any word?"

"No." He sat back down. "The only thing conclusive is that there’s nothing conclusive."

"Sorry to hear about your car." John added.

"I can replace a car." Kel wasn’t smiling. "In fact, I’d blow up anything I own if it would generate some sort of clue. What’s really scary is this guy’s arsenal---"He suddenly Trevor and maybe Dix were listening. Expressing his feeling of hopelessness would be to no one’s benefit. "You know, in my years of being a physician, I’ve never even entertained the idea of drinking on the job ...but I sure could use one," he confessed, still waiting for the peace he had prayed for just moments ago.

"Yeah, I know what you mean—"

"Oh…um.By the way, at our monthly morbidity and mortality conference your names came up."

"Oh?"

"Well, not personally, but one of your runs got the attention of one of the administrative investigators."

"Oh?"Roy slumped into his seat. "This can’t be good."

"Apparently a few weeks ago you guys were partying with a motorcycle gang…?"

"Oh. Yeah." John and Roy both knew where this was headed. "We wound up pumpin’ around twenty milligrams of diazepam into one guy and somethin’ like twenty of MSO4."

"You got it.I believe Joe handled it from this end…sounded like they were incredibly jacked-up on the drug-du-jour."

"So…are we going to be spending the rest of our shortened careers filling out papers and essays on the pharmaco-kinetics of Valium and Morphine or…"

Brackett intervened with a wave of his hand and shook his head."No…no. No. Nothing like that. I’m fully aware of what elevated catecholamine levels especially when coupled with well-trained liver enzymes will do to the clinical effectiveness of a drug. However we can’t disregard the Catchlove and Kafer study done a couple of years ago demonstrating the CNS depressant effects..."

"Rightyou drilled that into our heads during training."

"Well, the way trends are moving we’re probably going to have to have a more scientific endpoint."

"We have parameters."

"Yeah…titrate to effect… but we’ll be elaborating …in the future."

"And in the meantime...?"

"You tell me."

"IV…slow. Titrate to effect."

"That’s what I told the boys at the conference."

"We really raised some eyebrows…huh?"

"A few…I just convinced them of your superior airway management skills."

"When are you gonna let us intubate?"

"C’mon fellas…you hose jockeys can’t have all the fun. "For a few brief moments he was the old ‘TCB Kel Brackett’He even kidded."Maybe when you’re older. "

Roy returned a smile but reflected an underlying frustration.

"Right." Johnny appreciated the taunt.

"You can teach just about anybody to intubate. But you can’t teach him the airway management and assessment skills you guys possess. It’s not just your skills that makes you valuable as paramedics..."He thought some more, visualizing progress implemented, considering the challenge a welcome. "I s’pose you guys are ready. I’ll have a talk with the fellas next week at M and M.Maybe talk to Dean Lantzer, the anesthesia chief, and get you guys down in the OR doing some tubes…"

Roy’s smile widened.

" You made me proud." Takin’-Care-of-Business Brackett gave a weary smile evidence that he clearly hadn’t abandoned his primary preoccupation.

Dix would be pleased.

The phone interrupted. Kel was greeted by the familiar hairy voice.

"Hello?"

"Touching little prayer, earlier, Brackett!So you really think there is a God, huh?Maybe beginning to think you’re not sure? You’re gonna need one when you tell your little girlfriend about her momma.But that’s why you get paid the big bucks, right…?"

As Kel’s eyes narrowed, Johnny and Roy listened intently, once they had deduced just who was on the other end of the conversation.

"You gonna tell her you were the one who let her die?Hahahaha."

Kel bent in constraint.

"Feeling a tad violated are we? Too bad about your Jag. Guess you’ll just have to join the ranks of the working class, and take the bus.Better be careful. People have been known to disappear while waiting for the bus. Well listen, Kel…you’ve been a good boy." He mocked. " Wanna talk to her?"

"Yes, of course!" He said softly fully expecting this to be another tease.

"Everything is in place… so I guess its okay.I see you have company…put me on speaker phone."Moriarty looking to Dixie giving her specific instruction, plainly stated knowing Kel could hear everything.His hopes elevated once more...

"Okay." Kel’s two stunned visitors rose in their seats. "You’re on speaker phone."

" I know." Moriarty ordered placing the receiver to Dixie’s ear. "Thirty seconds!"

"Kel?!" Her voice was unnaturally raspy.

"Dix!"He gulped in this fresh air of hope.Her voice enlightened and frightened him at the same time. "Oh God…are you all right?"

A slight hesitation preceded. "I’m fine.I"m okay."Realizing she had few precious seconds left.She couldn’t waste them on her gut reaction to flood Kel with reassurances of her love. He would inevitably discover its extent.

"Look, it’s gonna be okay—"

"--Kel.Don’t use your phone…don’t do anything Michae--ugh-- tells you!--it’s a trap!--ugh!"

Moriarty grabbed the receiver after delivering another blow to her face. "You betrayed --"

"Uh!Two rings…no more than two rings! Michae--Ugh!"She screamed in the background. "Don’t…ugh…don’t listen—!"

"Dix?!" Kel cried. "Oh, God, Dix! Don’t say anymore!"

Dumbfounded, John cringed in disbelief. Roy stiffened while Kel rose out of his seat horrified, as if to jump into the receiver and slay the offender.

"Dix!We’re gonna find you, I promise!"The amplification of Kel’s reception was surreal and appalling. "Dix!" He heard the names Trevor--- was calling her. The verbal and physical abuse he was delivering even as Kel was listening. He wanted to rescue her, but he was helpless…again.

"Dix.God, I’m so sorry--"he apologized, realizing she compromised her physical well being for his safety.

"Big mistake! Brackett!Our girl has made a big mistake…maybe even lethal…"

"—But?!—"

"She’s bleeding, Brackett! She’s hurting, bad. What are you gonna do? Show your friends just what kind of a man you are!Come rescue your girl. Show them what kind of doctor you are. Come stop her pain and bleeding…that you caused!She’s did this for you!"

Moriarty was pleased with his words and not completely uncomfortable with the turn of events. " Oh this just getsbetter and better...and I get to watch while you once again are impotent in front of your friends.And your friend who let this all happen-Johnny right?- …is there too, I see. How nice… I’ll be in touch."

Click!

Moriarty removed the sock from his foot and stuffed it between Dixie’s bloody lips, sealing them once again with duct tape.

*****

The three were sickened, saddened, and stunned. Were it not for the presence of the others each of the three briefly entertained the thought that they would have much preferred the office had blown up.

*****

"A trap?!" Pete repeated. "Don’t do any thing Mike tells you?"

"I don’t know what she meant by trap… she said, 'don’t listen to him'…uh…?"Kel was trying, but unable, to remember beyond the beating. The Valium Joe had given him was beginning to take effect.

"She said …something like...'don’t use the phone'…?It was pretty much a horrible blur after that."

"Yeah, I’ll bet." Jim lowered his head in sympathy and disbelief.

Roy nodded.Two rings." She said something about two rings."

The air in the room bled with anguish as the ordeal lingered on with no end in sight.

*****

The sun radiated a soothing warmth to Dixie’s burning face.Let’s see, number five made it to first base.A handsome, familiar figure jogged along the chalk line to offer base running guidance and wisdom to the little squirt fidgeting on the bag.

She couldn’t help noticing others noticing the physique.

"Nice hit ,Tyler! Way to run!Okay heads up!"

Dix could hear amplified conversation between the two.

"Now what do I do?!" Asked the little girl.

Kel smiled at the child who was obviously in new territory."Don’t worry! You just listen to me…run when I tell you…you’ll be fine. We’ll get you home." Kel patted her.

Charlie was up next.

"Okay, Charlie …now…lookin’ good, Babe!" He smiled and winked as he clapped his hands and replaced them on his thighs and stooped over slightly. "Eyes open, Babe!"

Should have sat on the first base side, Dix. She smiled, entertaining herself with the potential view.

Immediately, she was there on the first base side, indeed, enjoying the view.
She heard a phone ringing somewhere in the distance. How? Where?

Click.

Confused, her eyes opened. Convinced the throbbing pain in her head and face was a nightmare, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep, searching for the healing warmth of that wide smile.

*****

"Go home, Kel." The voice of Neil O’Brien said to the physician holding his face in his hands."Take a few days off."


"You wouldn’t, by chance, have been talking to Joe Early?Because you’re beginning to sound an awful lot like him.."

"Yes, as a matter of fact—"

Kel let out a heavy sigh. "I’ve just had a few days off!"He said never looking up."Four weeks off to be specific, remember?The department…the precious department couldn't afford two extended leaves of absence…remember? It would cripple the department."

"I realize that… but these are extreme circumstances.Quite frankly, I’m worried about your mental state."

"So I go home...then what? Sit?! Wait?!Read the newspaper?!Help the FBI…what do you think that'll do for my mental state?" Kel was beyond edgy. "I can still function!" He snapped.

"What?! On Valium?!"O'Brien questioned as Kel paced."I’m sure you think you can."

"I know I can! For one thing, you’re presently, arguing with the maximum effect of ten milligrams...And secondly, I don’t need it anymore.Joe prescribed it after a crisis-- an isolated event!" He debated.

"Isolated event? What about the next time your friend calls? "

Kel was silent.

"Think of the patients, Kel. Would you want a physician whose competency has been compromised?"

"Competency compromised?" The knife bounced off his heart. Kel refused to absorb it. He looked up and stared it down. "I’ll admit…I’ve been distracted…but my performance has been sound.Just ask—"

" Please Kel, you’re bearing excessive duress!"

" I’ve been trained to function under duress."

"And I’ve seen you do it well. But Kel…this time it’s different…it’s irrational!"

O’Brien lifted his eyes to the feeling in frustration realizing he had expected this defense. He leaned across the desk.

"First Dixie…then the explosions…your presence is a hazard!"

Don’t make me do this.

"Kel, this is nothing personal, but it is in the best interest of Rampart, and the patients, and yourself…that you temporarily resign your duties."

Kel could feel his argument weaken…but his resolve never wavered.

"No."

Where could he turn for retreat? Even his most private sanctuaries were being monitored. Just to go someplace and think without being observed by his friends, enemies, superiors or subordinates. Some place quiet, removed …and maybe even peaceful.Some place his hazard would not tag along…or at least if it did follow, would not deter any intrinsic comfort.For the first time in a long time, Kelly Brackett headed for the chapel.

*****

He wasn’t sure where to sit or what to say. From past experience, he knew neither were important.He knew it wasn’t so much what he brought…but more importantly what brought him there that really mattered.

He had to explain to a little girl the reason why the most important person in her life was no longer with her.

He had to explain to himself why the one he loved most in this world had been abducted and was being tortured for his sake.

He was becoming overwhelmed with flashbacks of his own brother’s untimely death.

He was being suffocated.

For the first time since he could remember, his survival depended on more that what was inside of him.
He heard no voices…

No voices but one. He could hear his mother saying…'Kelly Brackett, it isn’t what you get…its what you give…

That much he could handle.

"..we’re here to worship…not for entertainment purposes!Be grateful first…the blessings will follow…"

Be grateful?

His mind overrun with thoughts. He remembered his mother praying…

"Quiet our hearts…you know our concerns…we place them at your feet.…"

And so with every ounce of energy he could muster, he collected his worries and entrusted them to his mother’s advice.

"Remove from our hearts that which would interfere with your worship…the sin…"

Kel knew there were many…more than he was comfortable recalling…more than he was able to clean up on his own.

..the doubt… the inability to put you first.

He battled. "Please don’t let this be a waste of time."

"Give us the strength to put others before ourselves.....we worship you..."

He still wasn’t sure what to do or what to say.Neither were important. It was what brought him here that mattered.

He knew little of worship but could hear his mom singing…

"When peace like a river…
Attendeth my way…
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot
Thou as taught me to say…
"It is well. It is well with my soul."

He couldn’t remember much more of that one. Another popped into his head…a little more familiar.Again, he let Mom do the singing.

Joyful, joyful. ...

We adore Thee…?

God of glory Lord of Love…?

He scowled as the recollection left him. "So, who’s joyful anyway?"Quiet our hearts…Something else then.He had to force himself to concentrate on his mother’s voice.

Oh Lord, my God When I in awesome wonder…
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made..
I see the stars... I hear the rolling thunder… Thy power throughout the universe displayed…
Then sings my soul… My savior God to thee… How great thou art…

He wasn’t sure of much more, although her beautiful voice still rang strong.
In fact, he was a little unsure of this entire endeavor.He didn’t feel any different.He didn’t feel any wiser.

"I just wanted some help, God. Not just for me…for Dix…for the little girl…for her mother.Was that too much to ask?You’re not into signs much anymore are you…?If you’re so ‘great’ …is that really too much to ask?"

He took a deep breath and stood. Frustrated, he left and went down the west hall. Turning the corner he glanced out the window.In the sky, one star… probably a planet.It looked like a prelude to a nice sunset...

I see the stars…I hear the rolling thunder.. " – Right." He mocked. "If you’re out there...I could use a little of that power right now."

*****

He entered Raquel’s room with a wheel chair. She had just finished her dinner tray.

"Let’s go for a walk."

"Where?" She smiled.

"Around." He answered in kind with effort in adorning a smile. "The sky is awfully pretty…I just wanted to share it with someone."

"We’re gonna talk about sunsets...?"

"Yeah."

*****

"We’re just gonna look at the sky?" The door to the Rampart’s terrace closed behind them.

"Mmm-hmm.For a little while."Kel footed the break and stooped beside his little girl friend.

She marveled. "It’s really pretty."

"Yes it is." He wondered with her.

"I wish my mommy could be here to see this…I just want her back."

She asked still looking up at the sky."Are we on a date?"

"No.No, we’re not on a date." Her innocence had amazed him.The genuine article always left him in awe.

"Maybe someday we can be on a date?"

He grinned but didn’t answer. His smile faded in pre-occupation.He sighed as he began.
"My mom always told me that when there was a beautiful sunset…just like the one this evening…somebody very special went to be with God."

"It sure is beautiful... somebody really special must be with him now. "

The time had come…ready or not…

"Kelly, Honey…" He turned her to face him and took her small hands in his.

"Honey…This morning…" His brows arched as tears threatened to choke out his voice. But he repeated, forcing the words out with the softest, and gentlest of voice..."This morning…it was your mommy’s turn…"

"…to be with God?"

He nodded slowly in confirmation. "…Yes."

"But if she went to be with God…when is she coming back?"
"She won’t be coming back, Sweetheart."

"You mean…? Mommy died?"The words were as difficult to absorb coming from the child’s lips.
"I’m so sorry, Honey. Yes...she died."

"She’s not coming back?!" Her voice was weakening.
"…No. "

"Can I go visit her…?" The tears were forming.

"No, Honey." As Kel expected the questions and comments got tougher.

"But why? I want to see her again...I want her to come home again…she has to!Please! I just want her back!I really love her. I really, really love her! I just need to tell her! I know if I just tell her I love her …she’ll stay this time!

"I’m sure she knew that."

"No she didn’t!" She was shaking her head feverishly. "That’s why she goes away…she says she doesn’t think I love her!"

The more he heard about this woman the more he resented and disliked.But this was neither the time nor the place to give voice to his thoughts. He sighed praying he wouldn’t feed Kelly more than she could chew.

"It’s all my fault!"

"Honey...That’s not true!"

She was still confused."But …she wasn’t sick."

"I’m afraid she was. She came in the hospital this morning…she was very sick. We couldn’t make her better.We tried…very hard…to make her well…but we couldn’t…I’m so sorry."

He watched as her eyes became filled with tears of anger."You’re lying! You’re lying!"

"I wish I were... I wish I could make everything okay for you…I wish I could bring your mommy back to you…"

"She just went away! She hasn’t come back yet!She’ll come back!She promised!" She stood out of the wheel chair threatening to run.She turned, double-fisted, and screamed."You’re lying! You just want somebody to love because you lost your angel!Well you can’t have me! You can’t love me!"

I wish that last comment were true…but it’s too late. He struggled to contain the thought screaming within him.

"I want to go home!" she cried.

He reached down, grabbed her combative wrists, and stooped down to look in her crying eyes. "I’m sorry, honey.I’m so sorry."

He tenderly overpowered her…she gave in.

He searched in her injured cries to see if he was reaching the six year old.She knew…she knew.

She collapsed, sobbing, into his arms. He lifted her onto him and sat down as she cried herself to sleep. Kel abandoned the wheelchair and carried her back to her room.Deciding that his presence there might serve as her reality check should she awaken and wonder if the dialogue had been a dream, after he placed her back on her bed, he sat on the easy chair and sat guard over her.

In the morning, he would discharge her care to Dr. Joe Early.

*****

All In A Day's Work

A-Shift, two days later