The Never Ending Call

Title: The Never Ending Call 5/?
Author: Kim Riley a.k.a. MYSTIC
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the producers of Emergency. Also, the character Mike Stoker is in no relation to the real one. Since they are no longer using them I’ve decided to take our boys out of the ‘closet’ and let them play and be happy. Enjoy.
Summary: What should have been a simple response to an emergency turns into a what will seem a never ending nightmare.
Warnings: This is an Au story, also language, violence, abuse, attempted rape (I will not be graphic), and death (though not of E characters)
Rating: NC-17 (see warnings and m/m sex)
Pairing: John/Roy (Emergency fandom )
Archived: at (or will be archived at) http://www.geocities.com/mysticmcknight/KimRstorylist.html
If you want to archive it, please do, just let me know.
Feedback: Please! Mysticmcknight@hotmail.com

"The Never Ending Call"

The two men were forced tops side, the tray dropped on the floor back in the room they had been in. Roy and Johnny noticed that many of the crew were in a similar predicament, being held at gun point, as they made their way to where a group of men stood with what Roy knew was the Captain of this ship.

Yelling at the Captain, who was nodding a lot, was another Hispanic man, about Roy's height and build, that looked Military, by his stance and his baring, also the dark green jacket he wore, also added to that impression. He was in his mid to late thirties, and had a thin mustache that added to the firmness and foreboding of his character. One of the two men that was shoving the barrel of their gun in Roy's back, shouted and the man turned to face them, puzzled and surprised. He turned back to the Captain and spoke to him, getting a reply. Then he waved to his men, and they pulled the Captain back, holding him prisoner, as he turned to them. "Americans?" he asked, his English very good, even if it did have a bit of an accent.

"Yes," Roy answered, naturally taking the lead.

"You don't look military, but you wear uniforms, why," the leader asked, suddenly seeming rather charming, for being in charge of this bunch.

"Were Fire Fighter/ Paramedics with the Los Angeles County Fire Department," Roy replied.

"You are a bit far from Los Angeles," he laughed. "How did you come to be out here, where this motley crew claims to have found you drifting in a raft, huh," he asked, moving closer, feeling at ease around the two prisoners. "And what is a…paramedic?"

"We jumped from a plane," Johnny replied, feeling the tightness in his lips and the barrel of the gun in his back.

"Jumped…from a plane," the man laughed. "What ever for," he inquired, not standing in front of Johnny.

"We were escaping some bank robbers," he replied, knowing how ridiculous it sound.

The man laughed harder. "Seriously," he asked, looking at Roy who nodded. "My, my. It sounds as if you have in interesting story, please, continue."

Roy explained about the bank robbery and being taken hostage. He then explained how they had overheard how the robbers who had already killed two men, were going to kill them, but luck was with them and they found a parachute and a raft and had made their escape.

"Only to be found by this bunch, and me," the man chuckled in conclusion. "Let me introduce myself. I am Colonel Carlos Juan Javier Argentine, and these," he gestured to the men with guns, "are my men. You seem to have gone from robbers to Pirates," he laughed. "Now, tell me who you are?"

"I'm Fire Fighter / Paramedic Roy DeSoto."

"John Gage, also Fire Fighter / Paramedic."

"Ah yes. You were going to explain, what a paramedic is," Colonel Argentine reminded them.

"We're like medics, as in the military, but we're civilians," Roy replied, using a very short explanation.

"So, you are skilled in medicine, yes," the Colonel asked.

"Yes and no. We no first aid and can apply medication directed by a doctor," Roy clarified.

"But you know how to use this medicine yourselves, or are you just a glorified puppet," Argentine asked, looking at them very intently.

"We're trained yes, but we're 'not' doctors," Roy insisted.

Colonel Argentine simply nodded, then barked some orders in Spanish. Roy and Johnny were then grabbed and were being dragged toward a ramp that led to another boat, twice as big as this one, and armed with guns on all four sides.

"What are you doing," Johnny cried out, slightly resisting.

"You two are coming with me," the Colonel grinned and then turned back to the Captain of the current boat, no longer concerned about them, showing it was a done deal.

Johnny stumbled across the wide plank as did Roy. "This can't be happening," he gasped, once again feeling frightened.

"It seems like it is. We just have to remain calm," Roy replied, as he too was forced down the stairs along with Johnny and into a small room and made to sit on the floor, their guards, remaining to hover over them.

"Roy, you sure this isn't a time to panic," Johnny whispered, seeing the glares he was getting from their guards.

Roy swallowed hard, also feeling scared. "Not yet, Junior," he replied, even though he felt he was about too. But he need Johnny to keep a cool head and hoped his words would help.

*********

Time seemed to slip by very slowly, when someone finally entered the room and gave some instructions, which obviously was that they were to be brought somewhere. After being dragged through the ship again, they were brought to a rather nice cabin that where Colonel Argentine sat behind his desk, his feet up, smoking a cigar. He barked some orders and the guards left the three of them alone. "Sit, sit," he told them, being charming; though neither man though for a moment he was not dangerous.

Johnny and Roy took a seat and waited for their new capture to tell them wha wan wanted. But he offered them a cigar by gesturing to the ones in a box on his desk. Both men shook their heads no. "Smoking is bad for you," Johnny added.

"Yes, and so are bullets," the Colonel laughed, "and more likely to kill me before this will," he said, indicating his cigar.

"Why did you bring us here," Roy asked, not wanting to play games.

"Ah, direct to the point," the Colonel smiled as he sat up properly. "The fact is, I need your help."

"We're not doctors," Johnny interjected.

"I gathered that, but you have more medical knowledge than anyone else for miles around, so…you'll have to do. If you help me, I'll drop you off at Puerto Cedros, the fishing village where you were heading before, on the Island of Cedros, deal?"

"Where is Cedros," Johnny questioned, for he really wanted to know where they were.

"It's an Island just a short distance from Baja Mexico. So, do we have a deal," the Colonel asked again.

"Look, we're not doctors…" Roy held up his hand to forestall the comment. "We can't guarantee that we can do much, but we'll do what we can, fair enough," he asked hoping it would do.

"For the moment, that is enough," The Colonel agreed, as he stood up. "Come," he said, and moved passed the two men into the hall and down the corridor and opened the door.

Johnny and Roy didn't have to be doctors to know the smell of infection when it was in the air as it hit them strongly as the Colonel stepped aside. "This is Richardo, one of my most trusted me. He hurt his leg a few days ago, I need you to treat him."

Roy and Johnny moved inside, the foul stench bombarding them as they did so. It did not seem that anyone had done much for the poor fellow. The could see the leg in question, the bloody bandage still wrapped around it, some dried and brown from age. "Didn't anybody clean it," Johnny asked, galled that anyone could just leave this guy like this.

"My men don't have any medical knowledge, they did what they could," the Colonel replied casually.

"You don't need medical training to know hav have to clean a wound and change sheets," Johnny retorted.

"Junior," Roy warned, seeing Johnny's mouth was about to cause trouble they could not afford.

"Perhaps, but that is what you are here for, now, tend to him," the Colonel ordered, the charm no longer present, just the dangerous man.

"Ah, we're just going to have a look at your leg," Roy said, as he moved to the wounded area, looking at the man in the bed.

"He does not speak English, just treat him," the Colonel replied, then spoke something in Spanish and the guy simply moaned.

Johnny offered his scissors to Roy, then supported the leg as Roy removed the bandage; both men turned their heads at the smell. They both pulled back half a step. "That's gangrene," Johnny whispered to Roy.

"I know," Roy replied, knowing he had to report this to the Colonel and somehow didn't think he'd take it well. He nodded and both men moved back to the door.

"You did not do much," Argentine glared.

"His leg is infected, it's gangrene," Roy reported. "He needs a hospital, where they will have to remove the leg and give him antibiotic treatment in hopes to keep him alive."

"You will treat him," the Colonel directed.

"Perhaps you didn't hear right," Johnny blustered. "The leg has to go."

"Then cut it off," the Colonel said matter of fact.

Both Roy and Johnny gasped and shared a look before looking back at the Colonel. "We're not doctors, we told you that," Roy protested.

"And even if we could help you, what the hell do you expect us to do, cut it off with a kitchen cleaver," Johnny snarled, offended by this man's cold heartedness.

To both their surprise the Colonel laughed, "you both indeed are healers," he nodded with some satisfaction. Then he got serious. "There is a small clinic on the Island. Make him comfortable, I'll have my men bring you some supplies," he instructed then closed the door leaving the two men alone.

Both looked at each other than the poor man, which seemeddrifdrift in and out. "He probably won't make it," Johnny whispered.

"True, but he doesn't have to suffer any more than he has too…" Roy turned as the door opened and a box of stuff was brought to him; bedding and strips of cloths for bandaging and towels, along with a larowl owl and a large bucket of water. Then again they were left alone.

"I'll get the window," Johnny nodded, knowing what they would be doing soon.

"I'll sort the stuff, and then together…we make him comfortable," Roy acknowledged.

**************

Several hours later, Colonel Argentine entered the room, to find Johnny and Roy sitting on the floor resting, and his man, bathed, leg bandaged and resting fairly well considering he needed medical treatment. Even the air in the room was better with the open port. He moved over to his what appeared to be sleeping man and whispered a few words in Spanish then turned to the two men that were not back on their feet. "You have done what I asked, but unfortunately I have some bad news for you…"

"You're not going to let us go," Johnny replied, almost expecting it, for he didn't think this was ever going to end.

"Ah, well, there you are wrong, young one; I 'will' let you go, but not in Cedros. You see, this area is known for their hurricanes, the bigger ones are uly ply predictable, the…smaller ones…are not," he shrugged.

"That's why the boats rocking so hard," Roy interjected, for it did seem that the ocean was getting a bit rough.

"Yes. There is a hurricane brewing and Cedros is 'not' the best place to be when they hit, though the people there are use to it. No, like us, you'll have to wait it out and when we can, we'll dock and let you go."

"You do know he won't make it without medical treatment," Johnny reminded the leader.

"Yes, but there is nothing anybody can do, unlesu hau have some k upk up your sleeves I don't know about."

Johnny just shook his head. "Can I ask why did you wait so long, that injury festered…"

"Johnny," Roy warned, not wanting to push their luck with their 'host'.

"Naïve American," Argentine scoffed. "Unlike in your country, not everyone can simply go and receive medical treatment. Here it is spread thin and even what you get is poor unless you can pay for it. But you also have to have access to it, which we do not, after all," he gestured with his hands to look around him, "We're not exactly popular with the Government or the law enforcement, unless you have enough pesos to get them to look the other way."

Roy placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder, in hopes to keep him calm, buen Jen Johnny had something to say it was difficult if not impossible to keep him quiet. "I may not know how things are in you country, but I am 'not' naïve. I know about prejudice and being denied med hel help, based on race or lack of money. My family lived on a reservation and we faced those kind of things most of my life, until I left," he replied, his eyes meeting the Colonel's head on.

"Reser…vation," Argentine asked, tilting his head and look at Johnny with speculation.

"It where the Government force the Indian people to live," Johnny informed him. "I'm part Indian on my mother's side," he clarified.

The Colonel nodded his head, seeming to think over Johnny's words. "Perhaps we don't know each others world as well as either of us think," he said casually. The boat rocked harder as the sound of rain filled the room. "You will be shown a room where you may wait out the storm. It has already been prepared for you. I recommending staying below decks," he grinned, and headed started to head out, as the guard moved in with the gun. He ordered something and the guard put his gun on his shoulder and gestured them to follow him.

Roy and Johnny followed, a down another level and led to another room. They were let inside where they saw bunk beds, two, a table with two chairs, and some food in a box waiting for them. There was also a tiny bathroom to their right. They were hustled inside and the door slammed closed.

"Now what," Johnny asked over his shoulder as he eyed the narrow bunks. //Shit, can't fit more than one, even if I could come up with an excuse,// he thought, wan tha that feeling of being held again.

"We eat and get some rest, not much else we can do," Roy replied, moving the box of items to the floor as the boat rocked even harder.

"How about rest and save the eating when my stomach settles," Johnny said, looking a bit green.

"Yeah, good idea. You want top or bottom," he asknot not realizing how in Johnny's mind and in the back of his own, how loaded that question really was.

Johnny smirked, knowing Roy couldn't see his face. "Some times I like to top, but most of the time I prefer the bottom," he replied, settling in on the bottom bunk.

Roy quickly leaped to the top bunk before Johnny took notice how his 'innocent' response had his mind in the gutter. Just the thought of Johnny writhing beneath him sent shivers up and down his spine, not to mention cause all kinds of activities in his shorts. "Get some rest, Junior," he replied and laid back, trying to gain control, not able to indulge the fantasy that was trying to force its way into his mind.

"You too, Pally," Johnny bid, as he pulled the grey woolen blanket over him, and closed his eyes, letting his mind dream of Roy; for it was the only thing that would keep his mind off of what was happening outside; a nasty hurricane.

****End of Part Five****