Routine Patrol

By Barbara Butterfield

Officers Dan Temple and Andy Thomson are back at it. Their first book, Incident Command, wasn’t enough to stop these deputies and they continue to faithfully wear the badge.
Routine Patrol is a patchwork of calls to which they’ve had to respond, proving that patrol is anything but routine. Whether delivering a baby or stopping a shooter dead in his tracks, Temple and Thomson are getting the job done. Their methods may drive Lt. Ruger crazy, but he knows Temple and Thomson can be counted on to save the day.

Join them for the ride of your life!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669855545

Barbara Butterfield

Ms. Butterfield is California born and raised, and currently resides in a suburb of Phoenix, Arizona…where she lives with her favorite feline friend: Baybee. Integrity, suspense, camaraderie, romance, and personal growth are all values that play a vital role in her novels. More importantly, the gospel and spiritual growth are also an aspect of life into which she delves. Ms. Butterfield has written for many years; her first novel having been penned at the age of fourteen. She also studied writing and journalism, becoming the Editor-In-Chief of the school’s newspaper. She is currently working on her 60th novel.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The ambush had been horrifying and completely preventable. Mixed communications, bad timing, and a deviant felon released early and on parole of which he cared nothing about.

Three officers died that day. Sgt. Baldwin J. Halsey was one of them. Though he lived long enough to receive care at Samaritan General.

The tires of the black and white patrol car squealed to a nose-down stop in front of Adele Halsey’s home, and the officer rushed to the front door, which was promptly opened.

Mrs. Halsey, there’s been a problem. I need for you to come with me, right away, a very young Officer Ruger had explained. She did not question the urgency in his voice.

One minute, she said holding up one finger. Boys! Come here right now! She called out to her sons, who were 4 and 6 years old. Obediently, they put down their toy police cars and rushed down the hallway to their mother.

Go next door to Aunt Sally’s house, right now, and stay there. I have to run an errand, but I’ll come back and pick you up in a little while. Now, go. Now, she encouraged and shooshed the young boys out the front door. Locking up, she followed Officer Ruger to his car.

The next thing she knew, she was surrounded by other members of the SCSD, those that had been injured in the melee, as well as those who had gathered to support their brothers and sisters in uniform.

A very somber nurse hurriedly rushed her into a nearby treatment room where she saw her husband lying on the gurney. The nurse didn’t have to say anything, Adele already knew the outlook wasn’t good. She stood by his side, just like she always had.

Dark brown eyes looked up at her, but she doubted that he was really seeing her. There was no pain, he was beyond that.

Adele lifted the back of his hand to her cheek and held it there. No tears came, not now…that would be later. She had to be strong…for him, and for the boys.

I love you, she whispered, and she felt a slight squeeze to her hand, and in the next moment he saw her no more.

* * *

Together, the couple slowly walked to the patrol car. Mrs. Adele Halsey was Andy’s ride-along today. She was twenty-five years older now, and both of her young sons had grown into fine, young men. Avid to carry on their father’s legacy, they now served as officers with SCSD.

Every year, Adele accompanied an officer on a ride-along on the anniversary of her husband’s death.

An older and wiser Lt. Ruger had made him aware of this information, though Andy, as well as everyone else on staff, were well aware of the significance of 01Aug1998.

Though three officers had died on that fateful day, it was solely due to Officer Halsey’s bravery…above and beyond, that the other ten went home unscathed. In saving others, he had forfeited his own life.

Though Adele had grieved the loss of her husband, she also understood it as well. That was just the kind of officer and man that he was. It was part of why she loved and respected him as deeply as she had.

You’re an awful quiet young man, aren’t you? Adele commented as Andy drove the patrol vehicle down Beach Blvd.

I’m sorry, ma’am.

Son, it’s alright. I’m not made of glass, Adele smiled, as she calmly sought to allay the officer’s concerns.

I’m sorry about the loss of your husband, ma’am, Andy finally broached the subject.

I know you are, dear, Adele replied, kindly patting the officer on the shoulder. But that was a long time ago.

I’ve read the story about that day. Officer Halsey’s photo and biography are mounted on the Wall of Fame at headquarters.

I know, she primly replied, turning her gaze out the side window. I’ve seen it, and so have the boys.

They have big shoes to fill, Andy commented with a sweet smile.

They do indeed. But they will leave their own mark on this life, and it will be just fine, whatever path God leads them on, she commented, and he smiled.

Around headquarters, it used to be known, that they called him Balsey-Halsey, Andy quipped, feeling it was alright to do so, and he would’ve been right.

Yes, I heard that too, Adele admitted with a chuckle. "Though not the most attractive of nicknames, the boys…you know, the officers did give my husband the most applicable nickname. That man was ballsey, through and through," she chuckled, as a slight blush crept over ivory-colored cheeks.

The patrol had been productive, but generally quiet. As the hours progressed, they had encountered a few routine traffic stops. They had also stopped at a few businesses to check on the store owners to see how they were doing and to shoot the breeze.

Andy enjoyed community work, but the aging Adele seemed to thrive on it. Talking with others about their good days, and bad, she had a wide capacity for sharing in the enthusiasm of others, but also in commiserating with people who were going through trying times. She had a heart for those people, and her love and compassion were evident.

Throughout the day, it had also become apparent that Mrs. Halsey showed a real proclivity toward protecting the officer to which she’d been assigned. Not that she had to, but she was intensely observant whenever Andy had to approach a vehicle during a traffic stop.

Adele fully realized that nine times out of ten all went well, but it was that one per cent…the one every officer had to be aware of and watch out for, that seemed to cause her the most consternation.

To her way of thinking, nothing and no one was going to harm her very own personal officer on this special day.

Andy had noticed her nurturing, or motherly inclinations but wrote it off to her history and having been a mother and raising two boys alone.

Adele had never remarried. No man could have withstood following in Officer Halsey’s footsteps, so she didn’t even bother to try, and had done alright on her own.

It was nearing end of shift when what seemed to be a rather straight-forward call came in. Keying his mic, Andy radioed that he was only about a mile from the location and would handle it.

He slowed the patrol vehicle and pulled over behind the stalled car alongside the road. The hood of the car was up, and a woman believed to be about 30 years of age was pacing about the roadside, clearly upset about having car trouble.

Andy had not let Adele approach any of the traffic stops they’d attended to, for her own safety’s sake. But this call appeared to be simple, that…in conjunction with her pleaded requests proved to be too much for him, and this one time, he allowed her to accompany him.

As it turned out, it was a simple call. The woman’s radiator apparently was empty or had been compromised in some way, which allowed the water to leak out. The car had overheated, and the engine was steaming.

Using a small towel the woman had in the trunk of her car, Andy used it to protect his hand while releasing the vent on the radiator cap, which would allow the pressurized steam to vent more efficiently.

The woman calmed down, and using her cell phone, she called for a tow truck. Literally, at the beginning of this episode she had thought her car was about to blow up, hence the panicked 9-1-1 call.

Traffic was light and moved at a brisk pace as the trio stood on the shoulder, well out of the way of the parked vehicles, while Andy followed up by getting additional information from the woman.

Consequently, everyone’s guard was down when a black car with darkly tinted windows blew past and a single gunshot rang out.

Hit, the concussive force of the close shot knocked Andy off his feet. The woman screamed, Adele’s hand flew to her chest, and Officer Thomson lay on his back, unmoving.

Call 9-1-1, Adele ordered the woman. Tell them what just happened, that we have an officer down, and that we need paramedics here right away!

Kneeling beside Andy, she put her fingers to his neck…there was a pulse, and where there is a pulse, there is life. But she knew they were far from being out of the woods just yet.

Oh dear, Adele whispered when she saw that he wasn’t breathing. No, no…not again, she pleaded, her voice a mere whisper. She shook at Officer Thomson’s shoulder, but there was no response. She didn’t know first aid, CPR, or mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. In short, she was helpless.

For the briefest of moments, her mind took her back to days long past. She glanced downward and saw his hand. Gently, she lifted the back of his hand to her cheek and held it there, and the name: Baldwin, quietly escaped her lips.

But she was stubbornly brought back to reality when she heard sirens in the distance. Though she might not know what to do, there was one thing she did know how to do, and that was pray. And pray she did.

Please God, help this young man, get them here quickly. Guide their hands, Lord, and be their knowledge. God, I don’t care if you literally kick this boy in the ribs or something, just do it! Make him breathe! Adele fervently suggested as her prayer became more adamant.

Adele had always believed in just laying your cards on the table with God, because you could always duke it out with Him later.

Adele decided she would do what she could, what made sense to help Officer Thomson start breathing again. She unbuttoned his shirt, and then unfastened the velcro straps of his armored vest. Then putting both hands to his shoulders, she shook him but good.

Just then Andy’s mouth opened, and he gulped in a huge, ragged breath, just as the fire truck braked to a stop behind the patrol car.

He repeatedly coughed as he worked to get his breathing back under control. In an effort to help, Adele worked hard to roll the officer onto his side and braced him there, rubbing his shoulder.

Adele knew that animal mothers lick their newborns to clean them and stimulate breathing and other bodily functions, so she figured that rubbing at the officer’s arm might help bring him to awareness. Surely, it couldn’t hurt.

The paramedics were quick to get to work, taking their patient’s vital signs and applying an O2 mask. Adele explained what had happened, to them as well as the other two SCSD cars that arrived on the scene.

I just don’t want him to die, she lamented, and nearly beside herself, she paced about the area, wringing her hands. I just don’t want him to die.

Ma’am, the medic tried to assure her. "He’s not going to die; he’s going to be just fine. Based on what you’ve told us…and our triage, he just got the wind knocked out of him, but he’ll be fine.

Really? Adele asked, as a spark of hope crept into her eyes.

Yes. Getting hit in the chest and then landing on his back…both worked against him and sent his diaphragm into spasm. In short, he got the wind knocked out of him. Sometimes it takes a while for the diaphragm to start working again. The brain is telling him to breathe, in fact its yelling at him to breathe, but the diaphragm is stunned and refuses to comply.

The little blighter, Adele said of her officer’s diaphragm.

Right. Anyway, there are stomach muscles that play second base, so to speak, and they’ll kick in to help get the diaphragm working again. Sometimes it takes a minute or two, but then everything syncs up and starts working, the medic patiently explained.

Will he be alright?

"He will be just fine. He got hit in the front, and thrown onto his back, it was a real double whammy. I’m sure they’ll want to check him out at Samaritan General, but no worries. It’s not an emergency."

Praise the Lord, Adele sighed, casting her gaze skyward.

* * *

A week later, Mrs. Adele Halsey, carrying a shopping bag, entered the lobby at SCSD. It had been her intention to have Office Thomson paged or called to the lobby to see her. But timing, as they say, is everything.

Andy, Dan, Lt. Ruger, accompanied by Davis, and Cooper had all just come down the hall, passing through the lobby, on their way to the cafeteria. Hence, they all ran into one another.

Officer Thomson, Mrs. Halsey called out, waving to him. Recognizing his recent ride-along, Andy and his colleagues gathered around the older woman.

It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Halsey, Andy greeted with a cordial hug.

You too, young man.

How can we help you today?

I have something for you, she replied, as she opened the shopping bag and removed an engraved placard, handing it to Officer Thomson.

Andy accepted the offered gift, but as he read the inscription, a concerned frown crept over his face.

Mrs. Halsey, I don’t understand.

Read it, she quietly ordered, and though he felt uncomfortable, Andy felt he should comply with her wishes.

Awarded this day

Aug. 15, 1998

to

Officer Baldwin J. Halsey

for outstanding performance

in the duty of his job.

Bravery, above and beyond,

in the true spirit of SCSD.

Mrs. Halsey… Andy began but was quietly interrupted.

"I want you to have it. More so, my husband would want you to have it. It was awarded posthumously, so he never saw it, though I’m sure he would have humbly accepted it. He didn’t know about it, but I did.

"I watched you work the other day, all day. Though we didn’t encounter the same situation that took his life, and for that I am grateful…I watched you approach any number of people, and under varying circumstances. You fully realized that at any time it could go wrong, very wrong.

"At the end of the day, when you did not have to take that call, you did. It’s in your heart to do so, and I understand that. Because of that you ended up in the hospital for a day or so, and you just reminded me so much of Baldwin and the man that he was. He gave his all, and I have not one doubt in my mind that you would do the same, if it ever came to that, and I pray that it never does.

"I have learned of your history with SCSD and the things you have faced with tenacity and courage. Lt. Ruger was very helpful, and I’ll just leave it at that.

"It was after our discussion that I noticed the placard hanging on the wall in the family room. I thought, you know…blessings are no good at all unless they keep rolling on down the line.

So today, I award you with this placard may it remind you every day of exemplary conduct, and the willingness and desire of your heart to do your job to the best of your ability all the days that God gives you.

I don’t know what to say, Andy murmured, shaking his head in wonderment. His heart was truly touched as he handed the placard to Dan to hold for just a moment.

Thank you, Andy said, even though his voice broke. Putting his arms over the petite woman, he held her in a comforting embrace.

Slowly, she put her arms around his waist, and rested her head against the strength of his chest. Her eyes were closed, and a sweet smile touched her lips. For just a brief moment she held her husband close to her once again.

Chapter 2

It was Friday before a long holiday weekend, and the officers of the South County Sheriff’s Department (SCSD) had been unusually busy as scores of people packed up their travel trailers and jet skis to hit the open road.

Code 7 was police jargon for going ‘off the clock’ to get either lunch, or dinner, depending on their work shift.

It was now 1400 hours, or 2:00 in the afternoon, and Dan and Andy were late for lunch. Their growling stomachs were a constant reminder of their empty condition. Consequently, it was understandable that the men were hungry and ready to spend the next sixty minutes relaxing.

Dan pulled their SUV patrol vehicle into the Main Street Pier parking lot. Exiting the vehicle, they locked it securely.

The extraordinarily lengthy 2,000’ pier was well-known among the locals. Lined with a wide array of small boutiques and ‘hole in the wall’ eateries, the fabulous food and funky shopping were actually quite good.

However, its infamy didn’t end there for the span also held the record for being the longest wooden pier in the United States.

Every year on the 4th of July, the senior citizen’s swim team held their annual race. Affectionately known as the Turtle Trotter’s, contestants swam from the beach, around the far end of the pier, and then back to shore again.

Most years, the heartier individuals survived the body-numbing cold temps of the water, while also having the fortitude to literally muscle their way through the endurance swim. Some did not. Still, every year they tried, and every year someone didn’t make it.

Dan and Andy took their time as they walked the length of the long wooden pier. Though relaxing, it was mere happenstance that one of their favorite lunchtime hang-outs was located at the far end of the pier.

Dinwoody’s BBQ, was a small, family-owned establishment, and always held the savory aroma of wood-fired smoked meat.

If you happened to be hungry, most normal people simply could not bypass the place without stopping to order from the walk-up window.

The fact that it was located right next to Manny’s Medical Marijuana Mart was pure happenstance but did make for some interesting and entertaining people watching, especially for members of the law enforcement community.

Now, it should be understood that marijuana use in California is legal if the user is over 21, and not intending to drive right away. This was a well-intentioned rule that was quite often overlooked.

Ordering their usual, Dan and Andy took their food to a nearby picnic table, complete with attached benches. They sat down under the shade of a large umbrella that was held steady by a fifty-pound cement base.

My gosh, this is good, Andy murmured as he talked around a big bite of BBQ beef sandwich that he was currently devouring.

No one, and I mean no one, makes BBQ like this place does, Dan commented.

Again, a comfortable silence settled over the partners as Dan upended the bottle of ketchup, pounding on the bottom of it, encouraging the delicious contents to emerge. He still had plenty of fries to eat, though not as many as he would have liked, since Andy had stolen more than his fair share from the large order.

Next time, you buy the fries, Dan said as he watched his friend pilfer another three fries.

Okay, just don’t wreck ‘em by sliming them with ketchup, Andy advised as he stuffed the ketchup-free fries into his mouth.

How can you say that? Dan argued. "Not putting ketchup on fries is…is…it’s un-American, that’s what it is."

"Stop being a doofus, Dan. There are some people that don’t inject ketchup the way you do."

It’s good, Dan said with a shrug.

So is mayonnaise, that’s what I eat my fries with. The Brits do that too.

And that is precisely what started the Revolutionary War, Dan stated, and then chuckled. Andy just shook his head and stuffed the last of the sandwich into his waiting mouth.

You full yet? Dan asked as he glanced at his wristwatch. Andy swallowed, sat more upright, stretched, and belched his answer.

Okay, now that the ‘belch heard around the world’ has registered on the local Richter scale, Dan chuckled, even as he took the last two fries and used them to chase the last remnants of ketchup about the plate.

The weather was beautiful. Unending, clear blue skies, and a freshening onshore wind compliments of a developing storm still far out at sea, made for a great day at the beach. It was too bad they couldn’t just call it a day, but they had to go back to work. Such was life.

Until they heard a blood-curdling scream.

Instantly, their heads snapped toward the perceived source of what was apparently a cry for help from the end of the pier. That’s where they saw a woman frantically darting back and forth along the railing. The partners wiped their mouths, tossed the napkins down onto the table and rushed over to see what was going on.

Ma’am, Dan spoke as the pair strode up to the woman. What seems to be the problem?

My baby, my baby! She lamented as tears streamed down her face. I only looked away from the stroller for a second, she explained, pointing toward the empty conveyance.

Did someone take the child?

No, officer. She’s down there! The woman wailed, pointing over the railing.

Both Dan and Andy leaned over the sturdy railing, while several other citizens stood nearby observing the situation. In fact, numerous passersby had their camera’s out filming the crisis, yet did nothing to lend a helping hand.

Gazing down at the white-capped, swirling bluish-green water, the officer’s eyes strained to catch sight of the girl.

I can’t swim, she’s only two years old…help her, please help her! The woman cried, pleading for help.

I don’t see her, Dan said as his eyes continued to scan surf that was running about three-to-four-foot swells.

No, there. There! Andy exclaimed and tapping his partner on the shoulder to get his attention, he pointed in the proper direction the moment he caught sight of the child’s pastel yellow sunsuit. The time for conversation was over as far as Andy was concerned, and instantly he swung into action.

Andy, Dan said concerned, as he watched his partner unbuckle his heavy service belt. Removing it, he handed it to his partner. Can you do this?

I used to be a lifeguard, Andy explained.

Well yeah, but you were like sixteen at the time.

Dan, I’ll be fine, Andy said, trying to reassure his partner as he kicked off his footwear, since the heavy shoes would just weigh him down.

Call for back-up and the water rescue unit with medics from Dana Pointe Fire & Rescue, Andy requested as he tore off his shirt and body armor. The protective gear was not only heavy but would restrict his movement in the water. Facing the agitated surf, he would need every advantage he could get to secure the child and get them both safely to shore.

With one last glance over the rail to gauge the child’s location, Andy climbed over the railing, steadied himself and then jumped, feet first, into the roiling surf some 40’ below. He didn’t dive headfirst as it was unknown how deep the water was at this point. What it may appear to be, could result in not only a tragic accident, but a potentially fatal assumption.

Accepting the inevitable, Dan keyed his mic and radioed for assistance.

Andy hit the water hard, submerging a good twelve feet before the momentum of his leap of faith slowed his descent. Stroking hard through the somewhat murky water, he soon broke the surface. There he treaded water, turning in quick, tight circles until he spotted the child. She was roughly ten feet from him, and he swam toward her, but it just wasn’t that easy in the intensifying surf.

Dan, leaning slightly over the rail, kept an eye on both his partner as well as the child, and shouted directions as needed. Dan had a birds-eye view, while the situation from Andy’s viewpoint was far different.

With the undulating roll of the incoming surf, one moment he may be able to see the child and the next she would disappear from sight. All Andy could do was his best and then, once spotted, swim as hard as he could to cover the distance as quickly as possible, before the tide could move her further away from him.

Within ten minutes the fire truck and ambulance arrived on the scene. Quickly, they assessed not only the situation, but the degrading surf conditions. It was decided their rescue swimmers would assume a different angle of attack to enter the surf to aid the officer that must be tiring by now.

It seemed that every time Andy got close to the child a wave would break nearby and wash them apart again. If nothing else, it was likely the most frustrating experience he had ever encountered.

The strong current moved them both beneath the pier, where the support beams did nothing to subdue the surf that lashed about the heavy pilings.

But once Andy saw that brief flash of yellow, he made a mad dash for it before it could drift out of sight again.

Lashing out, he grabbed for the brightly colored fabric and was relieved when he felt his fingers finally close about something solid. He had her and pulled the child to himself.

The fact that the child was absolutely terrified and screaming at the top of her lungs was actually reassuring, for though she was frightened, she was also alive.

Andy tried to comfort the child, but now was just not the time, nor the place. All too soon another wave built up behind them, and the force of the water shoved the struggling duo up against one of the slimy pilings.

Andy protected the child’s head from the rough and unexpected collision. Though it seemed untimely, he suffered some splinters in the ensuing melee, which caused an annoying stinging sensation to his right side. But he had no time to worry about that now.

Reaffirming his grasp on the girl, he began side-swimming toward the shore. The incoming tide would help them cover the distance a bit faster. To be honest, he couldn’t wait for his feet to touch the sandy bottom of the shoreline.

The child was too small to apply the standard cross-chest-carry that would be implemented in the rescue of an adult. So, Andy tried keeping his left hand cupped beneath her chin and pressing her against his body. This would enable her to keep her head and face out of the water, while he swam using his stronger right arm.

But it wasn’t working well. He wasn’t accustomed to swimming this hard and the surf and cross current tides were not only intimidating but seemed to have a malicious intent of their own.

For every five strokes forward, the pair might be towed backward three. In short, it was a tough fight against nature, and they had a long way to go yet.

Andy wanted to swim clear of the pilings as they alone created a hazard, but he was tired.

About the time the waves sent them crashing up against a piling for the third time, he decided he needed to rest. Sheltering on the leeward side of a piling, with one arm holding onto the child and the other wrapped tightly about the piling, the duo took a moment to catch their breath.

Though they were still splashed about by the incoming waves, the water managed to expend most of its energy on the piling before surrounding them in the frothy white surf.

Well sweetie, this isn’t getting us anywhere fast, Andy spoke, deciding to push off once again.

By now, the sun was getting low in the late afternoon sky and the temperature was beginning to drop. Southern California surf was not warm water to begin with and is often quite chilling, something Andy was beginning to feel.

They started out again, and as another wave washed over them, both the child and her rescuer were submerged. Splashing above the surface Andy inhaled and coughed, spitting out the salty sea water.

The child, though alive and looking at him, was quiet, though her lips were taking on a blueish tinge. It powerfully drove home their urgent need to get to shore as quickly as possible. So, he swam. The child still held in his left arm, her face skyward, he kicked repeatedly as hard as he could. Stroking as he was able with his right arm, the beach…his goal, was in sight.

There was no denying that he was tired, and his energy spent. Having two arms to swim is one thing, and against wind-driven surf like this would still be considered a challenge but having only one arm with which to propel oneself was nearly impossible.

At one point, once the child had calmed down a bit Andy had tried putting her on his back, instructing her to put her arms around his neck and hold on, that way he could use both arms to swim. But she was too frightened, and too young to understand what he wanted.

They went under again but popped right back up into the air. Mouths open, they both gulped in life-sustaining oxygen.

After swimming hard for several minutes, Andy paused to gauge his location and realign his trajectory, if needed. At the height of a cresting wave, he had a good view of the beach, but was disheartened to see that they didn’t seem to be any closer than they had been.

What the hell, Andy murmured. It was also noted that they were vastly further down the beach from where they had originally been near the pier. He could swim as hard as he could, with only one arm, and the current would maintain him parallel to the beach instead of reaching shallow water and the sand he so longed to feel beneath his feet.

Another wave crested over them and under they went. Stroking upward, they broke the surface within seconds. Though exhausted, Andy had to keep going, there was no other option. If he stopped, it could be fatal to them both.

It hadn’t taken the rescue swimmers long to figure out what was happening and though they were excellent, strong swimmers there are times when another angle of attack should be considered.

Andy clung to the child and continued to aim for the shore. If he had given any thought to the fact that he was fighting a losing battle, he might have opened the door to giving up, and failure. To do so would have proved fatal. Instead, with every wave that washed over them, Andy found himself getting more and more irritated. He got angry with the surf, the current, the situation, and himself. He prayed and kept right on going.

Take the next damn hill, Sergeant, Andy spoke, remembering his Marine Corps days. At this point, he couldn’t tell if he was actually speaking out loud, or the anger and determination were echoing solely deep within himself.

This is no harder than Boot, damn it, he cursed, and pushed on.

Another wave crested and pushed the pair below the surface, and then they rose into the air again.

Stop it! Andy shouted at the waves, but the sudden outburst frightened the child, so he never did that again.

He was cold, but Andy knew if he was, so was the child, and he kept her close to his body, hoping to share his body warmth with her.

The fog was beginning to roll ashore, or perhaps it was encroaching storm clouds. He couldn’t tell, all he knew was that it was getting darker.

Just then another wave crested and forced them beneath the surface. But Andy felt else…something peculiar, as a hand reached down through the water making a frantic grab at his t-shirt.

Snagged by the nape of the neck, the fabric stretched only slightly but the grip was solid and refused to relinquish its catch back to the sea. Instantly, Andy and the girl were pulled up out of the water with such strength and force that at first it startled him.

His initial thought was that he had been bumped by a shark, and his heart sank. Andy knew he couldn’t fend off a shark attack, no matter how large, or what type. But sharks grab an arm or a leg, and not solely by the back of a SCSD issued t-shirt.

Another hand grabbed him under the arm, holding him in place while another pair of hands worked the child free from a grasp that seemed bolted to the youngster.

Another person joined the first and they worked together to haul Andy out of the water and onboard the inflatable rescue boat. It was nothing big or fancy, but it was motorized and there were blankets and right now that was all he cared about.

Is the girl okay? Andy asked, through chattering teeth.

She’s cold, but alive. How about you?

The same, Andy answered amidst a flurry of raspy coughs. Another one of the rescuers toward the beach where Fire & Rescue personnel were waiting.

Andy was exhausted and quite possibly hypothermic. The medic on board had him lie down on his side, where he was covered with two woolen blankets. Though he was shaking uncontrollably, it was the best they could do to help the officer for the time being. The medic kneeled behind him, rubbing briskly at Andy’s shoulder hoping the heat generated from the friction might help alleviate some of the cold.

Occasionally, the strenuous effort of his coughing brought up some sea water, but that was a good thing, which is why he was positioned on his side.

This was strictly a rescue craft and there were no first aid supplies on hand. They would have access to that equipment once they ran the boat up onto the beach.

Within minutes, and at full throttle, the skiff was run up onto the beach where paramedics immediately rushed to render aid. Scooping up the child, they quickly ferried her away to the help she so badly needed.

One medic and one worried partner approached Andy and helped him to his feet as he stepped onto sand. A stretcher was offered, but he refused transport.

Andy, you look like crap, Dan reasoned.

I feel like it.

You need to go to the hospital and let them check you out.

Dan, we don’t have to run to the hospital every time some little thing happens, Andy explained while the medic and his partner shared perplexed looks. But Dan wasn’t having any part of it.

Thomson, I’m ordering you to the hospital, Dan stated. He was far past the point that there was any possibility he was merely kidding around with his partner.

You…(cough)…always do that, Andy retorted through his coughing.

Holding the blankets clasped tightly about himself, one hand clutched at the blanket while the other seemed to constantly be scratching at the splinters he had picked up when he’d been thrown against the wooden piling of the pier.

What? What do I do? Dan challenged.

Pull…pull rank on me when I…I don’t immediately give…(cough)…give in to you, and he coughed again.

"I am superior to you, you know."

Gentlemen, perhaps this can wait till later, the senior medic advised, placing a staying hand to Dan’s shoulder.

Temple, sometimes it pays to gently reason with people.

"I gently reason all freakin’ day long," Dan argued.

I understand, but let’s try something here, okay? Let me handle this.

Whatever, Dan said, waving off the medic’s much calmer demeanor.

Officer Thomson, I understand your position. You don’t like to be talked down to, or have rank pulled on you. You have your reasons for refusing transport and declining medical assistance. I get that. But one of the things that kept you alive out there, he began while also pointing his left arm straight out toward the ocean while also pointing at the crashing surf, was your…

Stubbornness? Dan interjected, and again the medic’s hand touched his shoulder, only this time the grip was a bit more forceful. This wordless communication caused Dan to just stand quietly, at least for the time being.

Like I was saying, one of the things that kept you alive was determination, and anger…

Anger? Dan questioned.

"The determination, that…drive if you will, that comes from deep within you. Unless I miss my guess, you also were feeling anger, not only at yourself, but because someone who couldn’t take care of herself was depending on you.

"With the decisions you’ve made in your life…having served in the military and now in law enforcement, you live a life of service and self-denial, with the sincere hope and goal of saving lives, especially of those who cannot save themselves. In short you refused to be bested by water.

"Now, water that comes dripping out of your tap at home is no big deal, just an annoyance, but this is a lot more water, and water in large powerful quantities is no match for anyone.

"So now, the tables have turned. Here I am in a similar situation. It’s my calling to render aid to people who need help and cannot take care of themselves. That sir…is you, and now I’m getting angry with myself because I cannot talk you into accepting my assistance, and angry with you for being so completely stubborn."

"Your bane was the sea, Dan interjected speaking to his sodden partner, and getting into the psychology of the medic’s rationale, and your own inability to overpower it.

"His bane, Dan continued, hooking a thumb in the medic’s direction, is you, and his own inability to overpower you and change your mind."

Sort of, the medic stated and again the hand bit Temple’s shoulder. The difference here is that Thomson is weak, I could push him over in a heartbeat and he would have absolutely no say in the matter…

Good, I’ll help, Dan said, and he seemed far too eager to get involved.

I could fight you, Andy obstinately spoke, though his wheezing was becoming more noticeable.

There’s no need to fight anyone, the medic advised. "Andy, whether you realize it or not you were damn near close to drowning out there. You were going down for the third time when the boat cut the throttle and eased into position next to you. One of my men reached over the side and down into the water to haul your ass back up. The point is you needed help then, and you need help now.

You are hypothermic, and if bad enough, that alone can damage the body. You are suffering from exhaustion, that too, is detrimental. You are exhausted mentally as well.

Andy, Dan interrupted. What the man’s trying to say is that…you’re screwed. Just lay down on the stretcher and be a good little officer.

Well, I would’ve put it differently, the medic stated.

And crap Andy, would you stop scratching? You’re making me itch all over, Dan stated, with a full body shudder.

"What are you scratching at?" The medic finally asked, as the constant motion beneath the blanket was finally beginning to affect both onlookers.

Just splinters, Andy replied, and though the coughing was easing a bit, his breathing was changing. Becoming raspy, it almost seemed to be labored. But no one, not even Andy had really noticed the difference.

May I take a look? The medic asked, but by now his patient was actively wheezing.

To Dan, the time for sweet talking his partner into compliance had just come to an abrupt end. Taking his partner by the shoulders he backed Andy up two steps to where a paramedic waited behind him with the stretcher. All three men helped lower the officer onto the bright orange conveyance.

Mike, get vitals on him, and oxygen.

Cannula, or mask?

Either one will work, the medic stated. This time, our patient doesn’t get a vote.

Blood pressure’s a bit low, respirations low, lungs don’t sound bad. Pulse is steady and slow, temperatures real low… the paramedic reported.

How low?

Ninety-five.

Could be worse, the medic confirmed as he freed the blanket from the officer’s grasp. Pushing up his t-shirt he took one look at the lower left quadrant of the officer’s abdomen and the diagnosis was confirmed.

Shit, he whispered. Mike, hand me a pair of scissors and an EpiPen, he ordered, holding the palm of his hand extended toward the assistant.

What’re you doing? Dan asked, as he watched his partner struggling to take his next breath. He had never heard anything so ominous, and he was really getting worried now.

"This is not splinters, the medic explained, pointing at the reddened area. It’s a jellyfish sting, and he’s apparently allergic to the toxin."

With the scissors, he sliced a hole through the officer’s pants, exposing a roughly 6" square of the officer’s outer thigh. Swapping the scissors for the epinephrine dispenser, he pressed the pen against the patient’s thigh, confirmed the necessary ‘click’, and held it firmly in place for five seconds. Removing it, he handed the unit back to the paramedic.

"What is that?" Dan asked worriedly as he eyed the suspicious looking item.

Epinephrine.

Will it help?

It should. It should also help bring his BP up a bit, he added as he tucked two blankets in about his patient again.

Hey Steve! He shouted over his shoulder to the waiting firefighters. Can a couple of your men help carry this litter across the beach and over to the ambulance?

Sure, be right there, Steve replied, as he and two other firefighters rushed over to where the medics were tending to their patient.

As Andy’s breathing grew easier, so also did Dan’s, who walked beside the group as they made their way across the sand to the waiting ambulance.

Dan, want to ride with him?

Thanks, but no…I’ll follow in our unit. Samaritan General, right?

Yes.

Harbor?

Of course, the medic winked.

Make sure he gets a room with a good view.

I will, the medic chuckled. You know they charge more for that, right?

I don’t care, my buddy’s worth it.

I believe it, the medic agreed as he climbed on board. If, at any time, he had given up, this would’ve quickly become a recovery, instead of a rescue.

I guess it’s a good thing he tends to live life on the stubborn side then, Dan confirmed, and the medic just smiled. The men shook hands and parted ways as Dan slammed shut the rear double doors of the ambulance.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had to follow behind an ambulance, and it likely wouldn’t be that last.

Andy always considered what was happening and the steps he could take to do his best to mitigate the circumstances to bring about a favorable conclusion. But he didn’t always consider what could happen if things went sideways. It was probably just as well.

* * *

The toddler would be fine, but it would take a while for her to get over the effects of the trauma.

Andy remained in the hospital for two days for observation. They had given him a private room, and yes…the view was amazing. It did cost his insurance company a bit more, but he was worth it.

Chapter 3

Officer Andrew J. Thomson was a well-liked model of professionalism. Formerly, he had served in the United States Marine Corps. But after a number of years, and with an Honorable Discharge in hand, he had applied for, and gained employment as a deputy with the South County Sheriff’s Department in Southern California.

He was 5’10" tall and weighed in at a lean and fit 180 pounds. Of all his good-looking features, Andy had been blessed with dark hazel eyes that sparkled with the merriment of his Irish ancestry…on his mother’s side.

It seemed that no matter his age, those ‘bedroom’ eyes could always gleam with just a hint of mischief as well. Since his twenties, much of the ‘bedroom eyes’ appeal had been aimed at the ladies, though with not as much success as he would’ve liked.

With his eyes, chiseled and clean-shaven jaw, keen sense of humor, and a roguish smile that had dazzled more than one female during his lifetime, it seemed only fitting that he could be considered a prize worthy of any woman’s time.

He was also sick.

Andy rolled over on the couch, where he had made an unscheduled landing. The awkward moment had occurred after his most recent trek to the refrigerator to see if there was any old cough medicine still lurking within the chilled depths and that hadn’t dried into aged crystalline goop.

Finding the fridge devoid of anything that could quiet his hacking cough, he was making his way back to bed, but never made it.

This ailment was a direct result of having been doused with one too many buckets of cold water at the department’s annual car washing fund raiser for the community children’s center. Though a worthwhile charity, having received a watered-down sponge right in the face after it had been sneezed into by a fellow officer was surely not beneficial.

The fellow officer had thought he was merely suffering from seasonal allergies. However, this was proof positive that an antihistamine alone would not have been enough to help soothe his irritated nasal membranes. Hence, within a week Andy was miserable and bedridden.

Two days ago, on patrol he had been seated comfortably on the passenger’s side of the SUV patrol vehicle, while his partner of nearly twelve years, Dan Temple took the wheel.

Having been Andy’s FTO, or Field Training Officer, Dan had become accustomed to driving and he usually did. On occasion, he let Andy drive, but the instances were few and far between.

He sneezed, covering the hearty event by hiding his face in the elbow of his long-sleeved uniform shirt. Groaning, he blew his noise and sank down in the seat. Coughing, he kept his face turned toward the window.

Crap, remind me to not touch that window, ever, Dan commented.

Officer Dan Temple was senior to Andy, having started with the SCSD about five years before his best friend.

It could only have been the will of a loving God that saw these two lifelong friends assigned to patrol together. They didn’t have to work on their friendship, or practice having each other’s back as the trust and friendship were securely in place and had been since junior high.

Dan stood tall at 6’2" and weighed in at a trim and fit 190 pounds. Slate blue eyes, and close-cropped sandy brown hair topped off a compassionate, though at times unruly, ‘bull in a china shop’ personality. He presented a rather formidable presence in uniform, with gun and badge securely in place.

Dan was a confirmed