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Station 45 - home of Anderson Cleary, the youngest Chief in the history of Cascade. This man gave his all for the station. He brought it back from the brink of closure as a Captain. He remodeled the building, made sure that everything out of date was improved and replaced. However, the station soon came upon turmoil as it was torn in half by the actions of two men. Even after all the close calls he had gone through, nothing could take him away from his beloved station and job. That was until his life was taken in the performance of his duties. It left the station in shock of losing their leader and friend.
As they gave the highly decorated hero his final ride on the truck and laid him to rest, a new threat came to Station 45 and the two others in the city. A pyromaniac was about to make his mark on the city and give this station a new threat to face without their leader. This wasn't their only problem. The actions of two men a few weeks before Anderson's death left the station torn. Five crew members and a Captain was replaced and left a gap in the personnel. Now this burden rests upon the shoulders of a new Chief and old friend to Anderson - Gavin O'Leary.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #15 on Jun 26, 2009, 4:07pm »
For his part, the EMT seemed to have a generally good idea as to why the fire fighter was riding along. At least, he likely assumed it was just because he was friends with his rescue and wanted to keep tabs on her. Unless he complained or was evidently suffering, it was just best to leave the 'fighters alone the young EMT had discovered.
Bel batted the nurses' hands away as they tried to loop an oxygen tube into her nostrils. "Oh, Hell, no. Sorry," she said as she swatted it away, "I'll stick with the mask, but thanks." One of the nurses tried to protest, but they ended up switching it out to the mask, and Bel contentedly took that. She hated going to the hospital and being so out of control. It set her on the edge, and she was alert to everything. Part of her brain told her that she had to be ready to bolt, and certain things didn't allow a person to get out of dodge very quickly. It didn't help that, aside from Elliot, she really wasn't familiar with these people. And, maybe she was, but most of the time when she was hospitalized, she tried to forget the incident. Still, some of the staff seemed to know how to handle her.
A security guard came by while Bel was still arguing with the nurses over how they would administer her oxygen. Her voice was hoarse and she was starting to wheeze more heavily which is why she figured they eventually gave in. When they stepped out, Bel handed her gun and mags to the security officer as well as her knife, her tazer, and her collapsible ASP. She sighed, handing Elliot her mask before reaching into her uniform and pulling out a back up piece from a holster attached to her vest. The uniform had hidden it very well, and most officers carried a back up these days. Especially since, almost six months ago, an officer had been shot because a perp had grabbed his weapon from the holster. It was a lighter piece than her main gun, and fortunately, she had never had to employ its use outside of the range. She did a quick pat down of her legs, not remembering if she had any other sort of weapon on her before setting everything she had laid out on the bed into the box the security guard had provided. It wasn't like she was seeing well enough to use any of them, though she wouldn't let the docs know.
A nurse came and drew blood to check for carbon monoxide count before handing her a gown. "Do you want me to help you with that?" she asked, the two nurses from before having left in frustration. This one, Bel recognized vaguely as someone she had seen at least once every time she was a patient. It seemed as though the hospital sent in an expert to deal with the control freak cop. Bel shook her head.
She looked to Elliot. "You're more than welcome to stay," she said with a shrug, "it doesn't bother me." She gave him a moment to decide before she removed her gun belt and wriggled out of her uniform. A few minutes later, she was sitting cross legged on the bed in a hopital gown and her panties, her uniform neatly folded at the end of her bed with her vest and her belt on top. It was covered in dark soot, as was, now, her hands, arms, and face from trying to get the clothing off her body. Her shoes were beneath the bed, socks rolled up in the left shoe. Needless to say, it was apparent she was a very organized woman.
She was panting and had started coughing a few times while changing, so the mask was over her face for a few seconds before she let Elliot know it was safe to return if he had left. With her free hand, she had taken to playing with her medalert necklace, sliding the charm back and forth across the chain. A minute or so later, the nurse returned, fixed a pulse ox meter to her finger, a bp cuff to her arm, and the IV drip line to the tube she had taped in before Bel had changed. Letting both know she would be back, she left for less than a minute and returned with two cups. The water, she handed to Elliot, the ice chips to Bel whose air passages were clearly more irritated and who was having visible difficulty swallowing but could still manage to get things down. Bel happily thanked her before popping a chip in her mouth and relishing at how amazing it felt to have something cool her mouth down. She had been starting to feel dehydrated, though, again, she wouldn't have complained.
"God, that feels nice," she murmured, setting the mask in her lap, her head spinning from so much oxygen, "thank you." She turned to Elliot. "How are you feeling? You ought to at least let them look at you so your captain is at least happy about it." Whenever the doctor came by, Bel knew she would have to snag a not from him or her about what she needed to do for her own captain, and then another one releasing her back to work. Which would hopefully be sooner rather than later.
Knowing Who You Are Is Half The Battle. But, It's One That I'm Winning.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #16 on Jun 26, 2009, 8:01pm »
Moose, for the most part, was minding his own business and staying off to the side as the nurses worked with Bel. He didn't blame her for putting up a fight as they tried to force the nasal cannula on her - he knew that he'd do the same. It was uncomfortable and invasive, and as far as he was concerned, if the mask would suffice, it was far easier to administer, especially with combative patients. Bel, he'd learned, didn't fare so well when things were out of her hands. Twice now he'd been with her when her health was in jeopardy, and twice she'd put up a fight. He admired her courage on one hand, but on the other hand, he didn't understand why she fought so strongly against those well trained in the medical field. Hell, she'd fought him for a moment at the scene when he'd applied his mask, but he was trying to write that off as the smoke and confusion acting.
He sank into a chair as the security guard came by to safely store the weapons she was carrying. He was filthy, but surprisingly enough, he didn't get many stares. His face was smeared with soot and ash, and his station tee was clinging tightly to his body, adhered by sweat. His suspenders hung down since he'd slipped them from his shoulders, and his bunker pants were wet and covered in grime. He took the mask and held it for her as she slipped her back-up piece from its well concealed place and handed it over to the guard, who then left with the tray of belongings. When the nurse appeared with the gown, Moose stood, intending to leave the room.
He couldn't hide the fact that he was surprised when she told him that he could stay, so he sunk back into the hair and stared at the floor as she got changed, nor brave enough to steal a glance. Once she had changed into her gown, he handed the mask back to her. He was fighting the urge to cough, though he couldn't hold it back once he handed the mask over. Thankfully the nurse hadn't returned at that point, lest she catch on that he was suffering - however mildly - from the same thing plaguing his friend. When the coughing subsided, he leaned back in the chair, his head resting against the wall as the nurse walked in.
He didn't bother opening his eyes or even paying mind to the nurse as she went about running a pulse oximetry reading, as well as a blood pressure reading, and setting up an IV line. He heard the nurse promise to be right back, and he acknowledged her by issuing a mumbled "Mmmk". Moments later, she returned and he was forced from his stupor as she handed him a glass of water. "Thanks", he said, actually enunciating the words this time as he took a sip. It washed the taste of the smoke from his mouth, though he knew he'd be tasting it for a day or two. It also served to remind him of just how thirsty he was, though he knew better than to chug it, so he sipped at it instead.
He was staring at the floor again when Bel spoke to him. He felt completely drained, and it was almost difficult for him to lift his head to look at her. "It's nothing I haven't been through before", he told her as he sat the glass of water down and raised his hands to massage his temples. He knew the headache would fade with time, the scratchiness in his throat would ease, and he'd be fine. Time, it seemed, would heal all his wounds. When she mentioned his Captain, he shrugged. Manuel would put up with his bullshit, namely because he was the Lieutenant there. "I think it'd take more than a Doctor's note to make him happy", he explained. It was no rumor that there was some discontent at Station 45, stemming mainly from the two ranking officers.
"Don't concern yourself with me, anyway Bel", he said, shaking his head, "Worry about getting over your own problems right now". He was pretty certain that she was feeling a hell of a lot worse than he was, given that she'd garnered all of the EMT's attention. He retrieved his glass of water and took a sip, glad that it was easing the burning feeling in his throat. He sighed heavily and stared at the floor again. It was hard for him to admit these next words, "You scared me, Bel", he told her. He couldn't even being to explain the jolt of fear that had coursed through his body when her CO had told him that she was unaccounted for.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #17 on Jun 27, 2009, 12:30am »
Bel smiled. She knew how that went. Making her CO happy was not an easy task. She didn't exactly strive for it, which she knew tended to earn her plus points. Not that she cared. She liked the guy. He was like a brother. And, he watched her like a hawk, especially since she was spending so much of her time in hospitals. She received a lecture at least once a month on the importance of her diet, especially if he caught her munching on a twix or something. She'd thrown Tootie Pops at him more than once to get him to shut it. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but he always left with her candy. Which, she had told him, was why she thought he really lectured her. Still, the man could be a hard ass. On a difficult case, he'd ride her hard about every little detail, and he had threatened to pull her from K9 more than once. But, she understood how he thought and that he was genuinely worried about the case and his cops. He was a good guy, which was not something she could say for many of the officers.
She smiled and shook her head. "I swear, Elliot, that when I'm not on duty, I live here. I've been in five times this year for injuries on the job and twice for non-job related nonsense, and we haven't even hit the summer months yet. The docs here do plenty of worrying about my problems so I don't have to. That leaves me plenty of time to worry about yours." She flashed him a cheeky grin. She practically did live at the hospital. But, her childhood haunted her in more than one way. Her immune system was compromised, she had to be careful about chemical exposure (which was explained away as her being a cop), she was diabetic, and she tended to neglect herself. Even now, she was barely on the cusp of her weight limit for being underweight, and, without a doubt, the doctor would comment on that despite the fact that her muscles were still well toned and she had the stamina of the energizer bunny. It helped that Alex was around, and that she was focused on taking care of Chris because the DEA agent reminded her to eat on a regular basis though she seldom stopped for her seven while on duty.
His confession to her frightening him took her aback. Bel by no means believed herself invincible, but she had always figured she would die when she did. In the mean time, she wanted to make a positive impact on the world, and she hoped that was what she was doing. She blinkned a couple of times. "I'm not going to lie, Elliott, I wasn't expecting that. I'm sorry I frightened you." And, Bel really was. She wasn't out to scare people she considered her friends and family. Really, that wasn't on her to-do list despite being something she did frequently. "But, I don't know that I would have done anything different even if I had known I would have gotten stuck. I can't be sorry for that, but I am eternally grateful you and the other 'fighter came in when you did. I was starting to accept that I wouldn't get out of there alive." Her memory was blurred of what had actually happened, but she remembered both of them showing up, and she remembered some of the thoughts that had gone through her mind, though she had fought off the sense of sleep as best she could.
Knowing Who You Are Is Half The Battle. But, It's One That I'm Winning.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #18 on Jun 27, 2009, 12:51pm »
Elliott knew Manuel was only looking out for the safety of the members of his crew, but Moose held rank as well and was equally concerned about the safety of his crew members. Sometimes though, he neglected his own safety, but he felt as though if he were the only one at risk, there wasn't a whole lot his Captain could say about it. Unfortunately, he was way off base with that assumption, and Manuel always had something to say about it. He chuckled when she said that she practically lived in the hospital when she was off-duty, though that warranted some more coughing. He too was far too familiar with the inside of the hospital, usually caused by his own daredevil acts at scenes.
He sighed, and shot a dismissive look to his friend. He really didn't want her worrying about him, especially when he wasn't worrying about himself. "Trust me. I'm fine", he assured her, though he doubted she'd believe him. Already she'd proven herself to be able to read people well, and he figured that she would see right through him. He was just brushing this off because he'd been through worse, and knew that in the span of his career, he'd eat a lot more smoke and suffer other injuries as well. Like Bel, he was in a hazardous profession, but being realistic about it helped him cop with the injuries he suffered and the pain he witnessed almost daily.
Moose knew he wasn't invincible either, and like Bel, he figured that when his card came up, that was it. While he was waiting for that time to come, he wanted to save lives and help people. It wasn't often that he responded to a call where someone he knew was hurt or in danger, especially since moving to a new city where he didn't know many people, so it hit him hard when he did know a victim. When she said that wasn't sure that she would have done anything differently, he nodded knowingly. He knew why she had stayed in, and he admired her for that. He truly didn't know many people outside of the station who would have done something like that.
"I don't blame you for staying in. You probably saved quite a few lives, steering people in the right direction", he explained. That was noble. When she admitted that she had actually resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to make it, he looked at the floor, uncertain of what to say. When a victim decided that, they usually didn't make it out alive. What had kept Bel conscious, he didn't know, but he knew that if he had wasted any time at all to don his SCBA before going back in, it could have been touch-and-go as to whether or not she made it. "I'm just glad we got to you when we did", he told her. That was the truth.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #19 on Jun 27, 2009, 2:39pm »
She shrugged, seeing the look on his face. Bel unfolded herself from the bed and set her mask down beside her as she kneeled at Elliot's feet so she was eye level with him. "Elliott, I accept a lot of facts in my life. Death is one of many, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to fight it for as long as I can. I got lucky. The gods were on my side, and so were you." She smiled mischeiviously. "Besides, if I give up, who's gunna save your ass next time you get into a bar fight?" Nope. She would never let him live that one down, but truly only brought it up in this situation to lighten to mood. I hurt to say she thought she was a goner. It was like admitting that she was too weak to survive or to try to survive, and after everything she had been through, to think that smoke would be the death of her was just a little too much. She'd been hospitalized for ODing she didn't know how many times. Same with being beaten almost to death.
She smiled, her hand on his knee. "And, you at least have to promise me that you'll get some rest if you won't let the doc check you out." Speaking of the doc, Bel heard a knock before the curtain was moved and a slightly taller than average woman stepped around the fabric. Bel smiled at her, recognizing her. Oh, yes, the hospital had learned to send in the specialists.
"It figures they woke me up for you," the doctor said as she picked up the dry erase marker and scrawled her name in the physician's box. Amy Kaivalya had seen Bel four times in the past year and was about the only one Bel shut up for because the doctor had actually gotten physical with Bel in order to get her to stop fighting. She had handcuffed her once, too. That had been when Bel was hospitalized after Marc's death and the then young officer had been disorientated, traumatized, and going into insulin shock. Fortuantely for Bel, the woman hadn't let the other officers anywhere near her. She had woken up to Amy sitting on her bed, stroking her hair and a very worried Abby chewing her nails and pacing back and forth. Bel learned quickly afterwards that if Amy was in the ER, it was her ER and she didn't take shit from patients. Bel respected the woman enough to not give her any.
"Charlie Best," Bel joked having nicknamed the woman after the founder of insulin for Bel's life was often in the hands of both the medicine and the doctor, "they warned you, I guess. To be fair, I only figured out what was going on about half way down here." Bel started coughing again, having swallowed the urge one too many times. She spat the black mucus into the bowl the nurses had left near the bed. She moved to sit back on the bed, folding her legs and breathing in the oxygen.
"You need to stop removing the mask, Bel," the woman advised, "you're still only at an eighty five oh-two percent. Your blood work is being run now, but you were breathing smoke for nearly fifteen minutes. I'm surprised you're as active as you are." She glanced to the fire fighter before gesturing to Bel to move forward so she could check her breathing. The cop was still wheezing a little, but the sound hadn't gotten worse which was a good sign. "I take it you pulled her out of this?" she asked Elliott. When she received affirmation, she added, "What was she like?" Amy was looking for conscious or unconscious, orientated or not. She had read the EMT's report that she had been coughing a black mucus, had been having trouble breathing, had a steady but low heart rate, and had been a pale blue color.
Amy nodded her head, taking in the information Elliott provided before instructing Bel to breathe deeply. This started a coughing fit. "I hope you didn't hurt any of my EMTs, Neal," Amy chided when she was finished, "Are you taking any of the suggestions I gave you last time you were here?" Which had been when she and Elliott had gotten into that car accident. Bel shook her head. "You really should think about it. It's not like the police station is going to know about it, and it might do you some good. Reacting violently isn't abnormal in some situations. Reacting as violently as you do is concerning." Bel shrugged but looked away. She hadn't exactly clued Elliott in on some of the darker things in her past, and, fortunately, the doctor was tact enough not to flat out say specifically what her suggestions had been.
"Well, there's definately gunk in your lungs. You'll probably be hacking for a few days. Try to get some rest. And, eat something. I know you're still skipping meals. You can't do that, Bel. It'll kill you one day. I'll have a nurse come in and check your blood sugar. They'll get me if you need anything, otherwise, I'll be back when the blood tests come back." Bel nodded and watched the woman leave.
She looked to Elliott and sighed. She was the ideal patient when Dr. Kaivalya walked into the room which would be a side to her Elliott hadn't seen. "Don't tell the staff I co-operate for her. They'll be so pissed," she teased. She had flinched everytime the stethoscope had made contact with her skin, though didn't seem to have a problem with the human touch. She bit her lip. "I know I didn't try to beat up the EMTs, but did I go after you? I don't remember. If I did, I'm sorry."
Knowing Who You Are Is Half The Battle. But, It's One That I'm Winning.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #20 on Jun 27, 2009, 10:32pm »
Elliott groaned. He'd rather forget that night that he had visited the Haven and had really pissed off a young officer inside. The guy had a grudge against 'fighters, which Bel had warned him about, but he'd still run his mouth and had gotten the shit kicked out of him. If Bel hadn't stepped in when she had, he would have likely ended up with worse than a broken nose. He was eternally grateful for that, and now considered them even. "I'm still trying to forget that night...", he explained to her, "But I am glad that you're on my side, regardless. Maybe I'll get reckless again and visit the Haven again". He returned the grin. If the mood struck him, he knew he'd go back.
When Bel told him that he had to promise to get some rest, he sighed softly and nodded. It was a fair trade-off, if it meant that she wouldn't be hassling him over his health. "I promise I won't go fighting any fires or anything for a little while". He smirked, then chuckled, prompting a coughing fit as the Doctor walked in. When he saw the white coat, sported by a woman who basically commanded respect the moment she walked into a room, he quit coughing and looked up at her. Unlike Bel, he wasn't bringing up any mucus yet, though he could feel it rising in the back of his throat. It would take him a few days to expel the disgusting leftovers from his little escapade, but he'd deal with that like all 'fighters did. They just didn't do it around any of their crew.
When the Doc turned her attention to him, Elliott began to pay attention to what was being said. He nodded in the affirmative when she asked whether or not he'd been the one to rescue Bel. "She was conscious, but wasn't really responsive", he told her. It had been true. Though Bel had recognized him, she'd tried to keep him from placing his mask over her face. "She came around pretty quickly though once I got some oxygen into her before removing her". His voice was gravelly and his throat sore. He had actually been surprised to find her conscious, let alone semi-coherent, so it wasn't too surprising that she'd responded so well when he'd finally got some oxygen into her.
Once the Doctor was tending to Bel again, Moose spaced out. His head was pounding, and he was feeling very much like heeding Bel's advice and taking a little nap at the moment. Still, he figured that she'd enjoy having some company, so he wouldn't scamper away yet. Before he knew it, the Doctor had left the room, leaving him and Bel alone again. That was just fine, by his calculations. If there were no nurses or Doctors around while he coughed, he could try to get it out of his system, whereas if there were medical professionals within earshot, they'd want to look him over without a doubt.
Moose couldn't help but laugh when she told him not to tell. "It'll be our secret", he grinned. Just like how he'd ended up with the injuries at the Haven. No way in Hell would he tell his crew mates that he'd had the shit kicked out of him by a cop. He was counting on Bel to keep that quiet as well. He shook his head when she asked if she'd tried to attack him earlier. "No, but you didn't take too kindly to me putting my SCBA mask over your face. Lucky for me, I remembered that you can be a little...", he paused, "Combative - I was staying back in case you took a swing at me too". He offered her a smile. He'd actually been anticipating her knocking him one, but she hadn't. He leaned back, head against the wall again. "What'll they do for a HQ while they mop up the cop shop?", he asked, curious. It'd be a few days before anyone could use the building, he knew that much.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #21 on Jun 28, 2009, 12:26am »
Bel nodded, grateful that she hadn't taken a whack at her friend. She knew if she had, even through all of that, she would have landed a pretty hard punch. And, then, Elliott would have to live it down that he had been beaten up by two cops. One, just an angry young man; the other, not only female, but oxygen deprived. "Well, I guess we're all lucky you came in after me. I must have recognized you." Which was peculiar because she had this vague idea that Marc had been in the room with her despite being very much dead.
She shrugged. "I would imagine that we'll take over a partion of the CSI building or the federal building. Neither one would like the cops being there, and actual offices are going to be reserved for ranks. Otherwise, the street guys will just be in there for role call and then out on the streets all shift doing most of the paper work from the car. It gets dangerous because it makes it a lot easier to hack into our case files if the computers aren't part of the closed terminal inside the building. But, that terminal's probably shot since most of the tech supplies were in booking, and that's probably pretty trashed. Honestly, and I hope against all hope it's not, but this could very easily have been an insider arson started by a not so clean cop who wants open access to our files for a particular case for someone outside of the PD." It unnerved her, too, because with the systems being down, she didn't know if her own records could be accessed or not. She was pretty certain that they couldn't because they were federally coded as well now that she was working with the DEA. Still, the idea unnerved her considering she knew Talen would want her ass on a rack ASAP.
"It kinda scares me. We had something happen once when I was still a rookie. The old shop was flooded when a pipe burst. Not that the building was exactly up to code, anyway, but we lost a lot of stuff. Crime rate skyrocketted because it threw all of us for a loop and no one was really prepared for it. Hopefully, it won't be so bad this time. But, something will always go wrong." She shook her head, somewhat dreading it. She was on the streets all of the time, anyway, and did most of her paperwork on her laptop before hooking that straight into the printer and printing it off. Still, that took more time and could be far more frustrating. If every officer had to do it, though, there would be a line a mile long at the printer every minute of every day until they were back at the house.
She sighed and leaned back. "Fuck," she muttered, "this damn headache is a killer. I'm sure your head can't feel too much better. Want some Tylonel?" Bel stood up again and opened the cabinet doors with one hand, holding the back of her gown with the other-- not that it did a whole lot and the skimpy fabric wasn't much help anyway; she always hated the gowns. She filtered through before finding the small, individual packets of Tylonel kept in there. There were other medical supplies, too, but Bel didn't touch what she wasn't familiar with. Normally, these cabinets were locked, so she had either gotten lucky or they'd been left open for her. She never really knew, but she frequently had access to them. She handed Elliott a packet. "Just in case," she said before plopping back down on the bed and setting another packet by the bowl. She knew she wouldn't be able to swallow something so huge now, but she might be able to talk the nurse into getting her a liquid version of that stuff if she used her best puppy dog eyes.
Knowing Who You Are Is Half The Battle. But, It's One That I'm Winning.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #22 on Jun 28, 2009, 5:12pm »
Moose listened as she explained how they would likely end up handling their temporary relocation. When she mentioned that booking was likely pretty trashed, he nodded. Though the smoke had still been pretty thick back there when he'd finally made his way to that area, he'd been able to make out the mess that was left after the fire suppression system had extinguished the flames. "I dare say it'll be a little while before you're back there. It'll take days to air it out to begin with, then you've gotta deal with all the water. I think that'll be worse than the actual fire damage", he explained. From what he'd seen, the fire had been contained pretty quickly, and the damage had all been localized to one area.
"With any luck, the transition will go smoothly, and it won't take too long to move you guys back into the station". He was thinking the same thing that she was - arson. Sure, there was a lot of fuel for a fire in booking, but incendiary devices were few and far between. Whether or not it had been an inside job, Moose didn't know, but he didn't doubt that the Fire Marshall was on scene with a slew of arson investigators, sifting through the remains and finding the evidence needed. "If it was an arson, I don't doubt they'll figure it out pretty quickly. You'd think that there would be a way to safeguard all of that important info in case of something like this happening". Why they didn't have a preparedness plan, he may never know.
Elliott nodded when she mentioned the headache. He was suffering the same thing at the moment, though he wasn't really one to complain. He figured that he'd just visit with Bel for a little while, then head back to the station, snag some Tylenol, and hit the bunk until the tones went off again, but when Bel offered him something to ease the pounding in his head, he wasn't about to turn it down. "That might help a bit", he said, then thanked her as he took the packet and tore it open, spilling two tablets into his hand. He popped both into his mouth and swallowed them with a sip of water. With any luck, those two pills would ease the throbbing that was currently plaguing him. "So, what are you going to do with your days off, besides ignore the Doctor's orders?", he asked with a grin. He wouldn't be getting any time off, but would be going straight back to work once he left the hospital. He didn't mind though - he just rolled with the punches.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #23 on Jun 29, 2009, 2:49am »
She shrugged. "We do. It takes about twelve hours to fully kick in, essentially. A lot of the information is stored in more than one place, so if something happens at the police station, most of the files can be locked immediately. The CSI building has our evidenciary reports, the DA's office has our police reports and cases. It's cases that are cold that are most at risk to being hacked, officer's personnel files, cases involving officers, and cases that occurred before the Crime Bureau and the police station had the same technology." Which was why she had the inkling it was an insider job. Especially with the mafia and corrupt cops toeing the line right now. Nationwide, police corruption was below one percent which was a better average than the Catholic church could offer of its clergy. In Cascade, it hit about five percent in the average of cases brought against officers for police corruption. That made them the highest in the nation as even LAPD was only at the one percent mark more or less.
"The problem with protecting the files left out would be the amount of time consumed downloading them all since a lot aren't even electronic files, just the lock pads to get into the room. If the computers go down, someone has to manually lock the doors, so we have to wait for the fire department to give us the all clear before the Chief can do that. Some of the ones that are electronic aren't backed up through the CSI board or the DA's office because they strictly involve the police department. You still need passwords to get in, but if you're savvy enough with a computer, you can always find the back door. I worked with an FBI Agent who forgot her passcode once so she hacked into the FBI's main frame from her home computer, bypassed the firewall, retrieved her password, and logged in. She got a call about two seconds later making sure it really was her doing that, but it can be done. Which is the scary part. Whenever technology comes around to make life easier for law enforcement, someone gets smart enough to bypass it and use it for their own personal gain. Essentially, we can safeguard it from the public, but to safeguard it from every person at the PD would be impossible." Especially when you never knew who was working for which side, but she wasn't about to say that.
Bel laughed causing her to cough, but she was getting good at supressing the reflex. "What's a day off?" she teased before shaking her head. "I've got a big case on my hands and plenty to do at home for three days since my side of the week is Sunday through Wednesday. And, even if I get stuck with desk duty my next few shift, I'll have plenty to do. Besides, I'm on call twenty four seven because my K9 is one of two at the station cadavar trained." Three dogs were missing persons, two were bomb, and they were all narcotics trained. Plus, the missing persons and cadavar dogs were take down trained. Bomb dogs were seldom take down trained in case they ever alerted and attacked a person or an object attached to a bomb.
"What'll happen for you? Will they stick you back on light duty?" She smiled faintly. "Damn, El, they're not gunna let you hang out with me any more if I keep getting you into stitches where you end up with me in the hospital." She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. It looked comical only because she could pull off the damsel in distress, but to anyone who knew her, she could also be a femme fatal and a down right bitch. Normally, though, and she knew Elliott knew this, she was laid back, independant, and a fighter.
Knowing Who You Are Is Half The Battle. But, It's One That I'm Winning.
Elliott Johnson Fire Fighter Forcible Entry Team member is offline
Tomorrow's for the fires we don't put out today[D3v:short-leaf-fan]
Joined: Oct 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 196 Karma: 0
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #24 on Jun 29, 2009, 9:28pm »
Elliott nodded as he listened. He could understand now what exactly was at risk. Though he was relatively new to the city, he'd already learned so much, starting with the animosity between cops and 'fighters, and culminating in those things to avoid at all costs, including people and places. He didn't, however, know how corrupt the PD was in Cascade. There were always the few, led astray by the power placed into their hands, but back in Calais, the few that walked the line usually did nothing more than traffic narcotics to supplement their income as Officers. Then again, back in Calais, they'd bordered Canada quite closely, sharing a border with St. Stephen, New Brunswick. Trafficking was quite a big thing there.
Bel made a very valid point as she explained just how impossible it would be to completely lock down all files in case of an emergency. He hadn't really thought about how many cases were still documented only on paper, nor could he fathom the amount of time and resources could be spent making them digital. In the long run, he doubted the benefits would justify the costs. As long as the general public didn't have access, Moose would think that was enough, but something in Bel's voice led him to believe otherwise. He didn't want to think it, just like she didn't want to say it. If someone had wanted to nab some files, he didn't want to know what for, or what they concerned.
He chuckled when she asked what a day off was. Sometimes he felt the same way, even though his shifts were twenty-four on, twenty-four off. Still, he tended to be the go-to guy when someone needed to be covered for a shift, so it seemed as though he never got a break. If the station had the man power, he knew he'd be on really awkward shift rotations, working eight hours a day with sixteen off, since he held rank. Somehow, he felt as though his twenty-four hour shift was better than that. At least he actually had a day off. "So, I take it that you're never really off duty, then?", he mentioned. The way she had put it made it sound as though she had enough work to last her a month of Sundays.
Moose shrugged in response to her question. In reality, that would be left up to his Captain, and depending on how pissed off Manuel was after this little stint, it was rather likely that he'd be on light duty. "It's possible. I guess it'll depend on what kinds of calls we get though. If it's an all-hands fire, I won't be outside". That was the luxury afforded to him by the fact that he worked forcible entry. He was meant to be inside before they even hit the flames with water. Making a grab fast was what he lived for, and staring down the flames without something to quench them gave him an inexplicable rush. Some people would likely call him an adrenaline junkie, but Moose didn't see it like that. He saw himself as nothing more than a firefighter, and all 'fighters lived for that feeling.
Moose smiled. "I might just have to make myself quit hanging out with you, no mind the rest of them", he said, looking completely serious before chuckling and giving himself away. "After all, it can't be good for either of our health, though I don't think the stints in the hospital and our being together is entirely mutually exclusive". With both of them working in dangerous professions, Elliott was pretty sure that they'd land in a hospital bed with or without riding in the same bus. "Seriously though, Bel -- leave the smoke eating to us... and we'll leave the guys with guns to you. It seems to work better that way", he told her, and flashed her a grin. He quite enjoyed her company, if the truth be known.
Re: Where there's smoke... « Reply #25 on Jun 30, 2009, 1:30am »
Bel laughed. "Let's put it this way, I get paid forty hours a week plus overtime when I get called in or if I volunteer to work a double shift or a gathering like a concert or something. Technically, I can say 'no' except when my job hinges on it. I quite like putting someone behind bars who deserves to be there, almost as much as I like helping the victims. There's also the feeling of mortality when you approach an unfamiliar vehicle and don't know if someone inside is armed and wants to harm you or is co-operative regardless of being armed." She laughed. Truth was, most cops were adrenaline junkies as well. It just came out in a different way. Fire fighters were heroes most of the time. Most often, corrupt or not, the police were scorned. Fire fighting was also more anonymous than police work, though both were very anonymous professions.
"Aw," Bel pouted, "just when we were getting to know each other so well." She laughed again before breaking out coughing. "You're right, though. Somehow, I think I'd end up here even if you hadn't been the 'fighter to rescue me. Of course, if it hadn't been you hauling ass, I might be downstairs right now instead of up." Downstairs, of course, was where the bodies were kept before the morgue picked them up. Bel had the sense that Elliott had probably picked up the pace a notch when he had learned it was Bel suffocating in booking and not some anonymous person. It was rarely a conscious thing to do, but Bel had learned that people tended to work harder when they knew the victims. Some sense of personal loss effectively lit a small fire under certain people's asses.
"Done deal," she said, offering her hand for Elliott to shake on it. She wouldn't mind a ride with the fire department, but to actually be a fire fighter was not her cup of tea. In fact, it really wasn't her cup of anything. "I still want that ride, though." She flashed him a cheeky grin. "And, you're always more than welcome to ride with me. I don't know if I'd hand you off to some of the other guys, though. Cops are known to be territorial and generally don't like strangers in their cars unless they're being arrested."
The doctor returned with a knock. "Bel, your carbonmonoxide levels are just over seventeen percent. That's not too bad, but it's well above normal, even if you made thirty traffic stops today."
Bel smirked. "Twenty nine, thank you very much," she quipped with a smile. She had probably only pulled over seven or eight cars, ticketed two, and given the rest a warning-- three of which were written. She didn't write a whole ton of tickets. Not unless someone was really being dangerous.
Amy put her hands on her hips. "Shut up," she teased right back, "are there twenty nine people driving during grave shift in your district?" Bel shrugged with an 'I dunna' look on her face. "I didn't think so. Anyway, I'd like to keep you here the rest of the day at least since your oh-two levels are still lower than I'd like and your see-oh levels are higher than I'd like."
Bel's brow furrowed. She hated hospitals. A moment spent in one was a minute too long. "Plea bargain?" she asked, looking hopeful.
"That someone comes and picks you up and is with you for the next forty eight hours that you can't manipulate into not bringing you back to the hospital if you don't get better or if you do get worse. Plus, you call me and let me know how you're doing every hour." Bel thought about this one. "And, don't think I won't grill them first to make sure you're not trying to trick me."
"Lemme think on that one," she said as she folded her arms. She already knew she'd deal, but she also knew that Amy was a scary person to come across. Alex would wisk her back to the hospital in a heart beat if he thought something was wrong, but they were still testing relationship waters, and she didn't want him to feel like her babysitter. Not that he would be, but shedidn't want to risk him feeling as though he were.
"I'll give you an hour," Amy said, "besides, if you would keep the mask on, I might be willing to negotiate some more depending on your oh-two levels." She turned to Elliott. "How are you doing?" She waited for his reponse. He had obviously swallowed smoke, but she wasn't going to bug him about it if he didn't want to be bugged. Anyone could technically refuse medical treatment so long as they were in a presence of mind to do so, and Elliott seemed reasonably with it.
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