0o0o0o0o0

It didn't take much to get through security. Flash his badge. Self-absorbed paper-pusher hurrying through the back entrance didn't care that it was a fireman's shield.

Badge was a badge.

Badges opened doors.

Badges announced that a man is to be trusted.

Badges told the world that, when you needed help, when you needed someone to save the day, this was the man to believe in.

Andy looked down and ran a thumb over his shiny badge. Silver with brilliant red banners, crossed axes, ladder, helmet… Untarnished, shining, gleaming, a beacon of hope, the shield of a hero, trust, honor, life…

Untarnished.

His fingers wrapped around the badge, suddenly feeling so very unworthy. He quickly tucked it away in his pocket, out of sight, out of mind.

He had a job to do.

0o0o0o0o0

"You'd think that… dying as she did… fire is hot! It burns!... Right?"

"Ruben, please…" his wife whimpered, burying her face in her hands.

He was Ruben Carlos, father of Lara Carlos, a college student, inspiring artist, and fatal victim number seven of the Whispers Club fire.

Killed when she was trapped between bars on an escape exit and a cloud of chemical smoke from burning curtains. She suffocated, frightened and alone, despite the crowd of panicked club goers pressed in around her, screaming and crying, fingers wrapped around the hot bars, no escape, no hope…

The father looked at the SRU officer sitting across from him and asked "How… she looked like she was sleeping. How could something… something like this… how could my little girl be… be dead? When she looked like she was just… just sleeping?"

Wordy had no answers for the man.

He had no answer for any of them.

Members of the families of the victims had gathered at a church near the fire site to mourn the loss of their loved ones, offer support, find some comfort. Most of them were parents. Some were college buddies. Some were strangers who happened to have gotten out of that fire alive.

Wordy had spent the last hour talking to families. An hour was enough. The stories he had heard, just a few minutes with each, left him dazed and buzzing. When he stepped out of the room, he found Sam in a like sort of state: shocked, eyes glazed, flashes of someone else's horror story blinking in and out of his head.

"You okay?" Wordy asked his partner.

Sam gave him that you-got-to-be-kidding look before shaking his head and letting his breath out in a long, exhausted sigh. "Man…"

"I know." Wordy answered, patting him on the shoulder.

"Think I'm gonna have nightmares of human torches."

The older officer nodded. "Yea. Heard that one a lot, too." He glanced up and down the hall, seeing the mourners clustered together, a priest here and there offering comfort. "What do you think?"

Sam also looked about, giving the families another look. He shook his head again. "He's not here."

"Yea." Wordy agreed. Another offered pat on the shoulder, then Wordy was heading for the door, turning on his radio. "Boss, Sierra Three."

"Yea, Wordy, go ahead." came the answer.

"Most of these folks are still rearing from shock, stuck in the denial stage. They're not thinking about revenge." He paused, squinting against the bright, morning sun.

Sam just bowed his head and plunged into the light, eager to get away from the stories he heard inside. Leaving the update to Wordy, he headed straight for their SUV sitting at the curb.

Wordy continued, keeping one eye on his partner. "Those few that made it to the anger stage aren't angry at Rose. They're pissed off at the Fire Marshal. If they go after anyone, it's him."

"Copy that, Sierra Three…"

Wordy listened to instructions from Greg as he watched Sam reach their SUV. A young woman approached the SRU sniper. "Yea, boss. Got you."

"Constable?" the girl called to Sam.

He glanced at her, a little startled. "Um, yea… yes, ma'am?" he managed to respond.

"You guys…" she threw a look at Wordy who was watching from a distance. "You guys were asking about the fire?"

Sam straightened. "Yes, ma'am." He answered, forcing the tired out of his tone, snapping back to alert, trying to prepare himself for the next horror story. "I'm sorry, were you there?"

She gave a little nod. For a moment she dropped her eyes, wringing her hands. But then her eyes snapped up. "They say it was the Fire Marshall, and his brother… the manager… but…"

When she paused, Sam leaned forward. "But…? You don't think so?" he encouraged her to continue.

"Look, I don't know what happened. I was only there for, like, fifteen. But Jamie, she's my friend… she was burned pretty bad. I mean, she's gonna be okay and all, but she's in the hospital. But, she said some stuff, and I think… well, I think you guys should talk to her."

"Jamie?" Sam repeated. "Did she see something?" He looked about, finding Wordy. With a jerk of his head, he called him over. "Did she say something?"

"Just… she said something about the manager trying to close the joint down early… but, you know, she was hurting and crying and there was so much noise and… and stuff…" She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Yea, we heard about stuff." Wordy assured as he joined them.

She looked up at him. "Look, I don't know what she saw or heard or whatever. I didn't get there 'til late." The girl huffed. "I just think you should talk to her. Maybe if she's saying something others aren't, maybe she saw something the others didn't. I'm just saying…"

Sam glanced at the woman's name tag. All the mourners at the church were wearing name tags. "Um… Samantha… what's Jamie's last name? And which hospital is she at?"

As Sam wrote down the information, Wordy walked around to the driver's side, taking the time to inform the others. "Boss, we're headed to the hospital to talk to another witness…"

0o0o0o0o0

Fire Chief Anderson shook his head as he took the quick, long steps down the hall to the front doors of the fire station. "Don't know what to tell you, officers." He was saying over his shoulder as he walked, half hoping they'd no longer be there to answer. The discussion had been uncomfortable to begin with.

Cops asking about his people…

Like his people could possibly be out there starting fires, risking lives…

He spun on Leah, stopping them so suddenly the SRU officers had to skid to keep from falling over each other. "What do you want me to say, Kerns? You so far from home you don't know your old team mates? Your brothers!"

Leah flinched.

But Spike was quick to draw the man's attention. "Sir, we are not accusing anyone of anything. We just need to ask some questions…"

Anderson shook his head. "You know your people, Constable?"

Spike offered a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Like to think I do… but, honestly, man, they do keep me on my toes."

"Well…" Anderson looked him up and down. "Maybe that's why you're just a foot soldier… a trigger puller…"

"Chief…" Leah started. She paused and tossed Spike a look.

Understanding, Spike offered the Chief a nod, excusing himself, and stepped out the front doors to wait for his partner outside.

Leah slipped her comm's earpiece off, showing it to the Chief. "Between us, Chief."

The man tilted his head. "Between us?" he huffed. "Us as in firefighters? Kerns, you don't fit that description any more. Remember? You left!" he hissed. "You abandoned the team, the family. You abandoned the fight!"

Again Leah flinched, but she held her head high and answered right back, her voice steady, strong. "I keep the peace! I keep people safe!" She spread her hands. "That's what you always told us to do." She stepped pass him and laid her hand on an etching beside the door, a dedication, a promise of firemen answering the call of duty. "This… I still answer this call. I still answer, I still come whenever, wherever, whoever calls for help." She looked back over her shoulder at her one time boss. "Andy's my brother… same as everyone I have ever ran into a burning building with. Always have been, always will be." She turned to face him straight on. "And, if you think otherwise, than it isn't me who did the abandoning!" And Leah Kerns stood a little taller, her chin up, her eyes bright and strong, challenging the world to dare say otherwise.

Chief Anderson looked at her long and hard before he closed his eyes. His broad shoulders fell as he seemed to melt inches in stature.

Leah sighed, suddenly feeling as tired and worn as the Chief looked. Softly, she asked "Do you remember… Little Tony's graduation?"

He smiled at the memory. "We took the trucks and let loose the horns when they called his name. Principle nearly called the cops on us. Took me a good hour to drink him out of it." He shook his head slightly. "Was damn proud of that kid. As proud as if he was my own."

"We all were." Leah admitted. "When Andy's parents died and he brought that mouthy little guy to the fire house, not a clue on what to do with him…"

"He needed a lot of help back then, but he fell right into the role of guardian." The Chief agreed, remembering when.

"Andy was always everybody's guardian. Ran into every fire without hesitation, every collapsed building, up every tree after some forlorn cat…"

"It was different with Tony. Tony… Tony was the world to him. His heart, his soul…" Again he closed his eyes and let his chin drop to his chest. "Losing him… it broke him, Leah. Shattered…"

"Chief, what happened?" Leah asked softly. "Did he sign off on that club?"

His eyes open, but he didn't look at her. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Then he licked his lips. "I asked Andy… after the fire… what we found there… bars on the windows, damn ceiling drapes that'd puff in flames with a dirty look…" His eyes snapped to her, suddenly hard and sure. "Andy wouldn't let that joint open if he knew… He didn't! He told me, he swore he had spent the night before with Tony, taking down the last of the bars. Said Tony had already taken the bunting down. He swore that he would never have let that place open if it hadn't been safe."

Leah frowned. "But there were bars on the windows and exits."

"I saw them myself." Anderson shook his head. "They went back up. Between Andy pulling them down and the doors opening… something happened. It had to! Andy wouldn't have lied… not about that! Not when his brother, our Tony…" He stopped and looked at Leah again. "This… this wasn't clumsy. This wasn't an accident. This was murder! Tony!" He snapped his teeth shut and snarled out the next few words: "Tony was murdered!"

Leah felt her chest tightened. It was bad enough losing the boy. But to have him taken… "That's what Andy believes?"

"You don't?" the Chief challenged.

Leah rested her hand on the radio hanging from her belt, arguing with herself about how much to tell the rest of the team. But there was still a question, the important question… "Is Andy going after Roselin?"

Anderson's eyes narrowed, protectiveness for his men rising up again in his chest.

Seeing the fight rise again, Leah headed it off. "Fires are being set, Chief. Set by someone who knows what he's doing, who's targeting Roselin…" Again she laid a hand on the plaque. "No matter who calls, we answer… you, me, SRU, firefighters… it's what we do. You don't have a problem sending our brothers and sisters into a fire Andy set? You know as well as I, good, even the best… no one controls fire!"

Chief Anderson looked at her for a long, cold, silent moment. Finally, he nodded once. "Andy's on mandatory leave until the investigation is over. You find him, you ask him yourself." That said, he turned and started back down the hall. But he stopped a few feet away. Not turning back, he called "Leah?"

"Yes, sir?"

Voice almost too soft for her to make out, he said "You save him before he goes where he can't come back from. You hear?" He continued, not waiting for her answer.

Leah Kerns nodded. "Yes, sir." She answered his back. But, as she turned to step outside, joining Spike, she couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't already too late.

0o0o0o0o0

A/N: sorry this took me so long. I know all the great action to come, just not the bits that connect them. Without those in-between parts all we have is fire, fire, bang, boom, scream, fire, more fire, cussing, fire...Sure, great for visual effects, but not so good in holding a plot together.

And it's hard to write Leah since there doesn't seem to really be much on her. Kinda like I'm creating her character as I go (so, any Leah Kerns insights please offer them up).

Anyway and anyhow, as always, pleading for feedback.

~~The Chronicler

P.S. Serra- Sierra