In God's Hands On A Monday Morning.
Disclaimers: See chapter 1
This story is dedicated to all the folks out there who have been a victim of or affected by any acts of terrorism.
It's a Sunday morning and Detective's Amanda Ellis and Mitchell Blake are downstairs in Amanda's gym room. Dr. Sandra Wilson and Mitchell's girlfriend Deb Tyler are upstairs cooking brunch.
"Mitchell, stop sweating all over me. Amanda wipes an unwanted bead of sweat from her face. It's gross."
"Will you stop bitching and just hold my feet. I can't concentrate if you're yapping at me." Mitchell snaps back at her.
"You have to concentrate? Christ Mitch, this isn't Jeopardy, it's just up and down. Amanda laughed at her friend and partner.
"Well if you had a thicker mat down here, it wouldn't hurt my butt so much." Mitchell countered back with a pout on her face.
"What the hell do you want, a bed mattress down here?" Amanda was getting cranky. They had been down stairs for over two hours and she was tired.
Mitchell let out a groan and laid on her back.
A voice from outside the door was heard and both women turned to see Sandy leaning on the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow arched up.
"It's a good thing I know you're both down here doing sit-ups or else I might think there is something sexual going on between the two of you. Sandy laughed at the expressions on both of Amanda's and Mitchell's faces. Wash up and get your asses upstairs. Breakfast is almost ready."
With that she turned and walked back upstairs, still laughing to herself.
Amanda and Mitchell both looked at each other with stunned expressions.
"What is it with Sandy and sex? Mitchell asked. When was the last time you two made love?"
"Just last night. Amanda sat with a puzzled look on her face. Why would she say that about us?"
"How would I know, she's your wife. Maybe you aren't satisfying her enough?" Mitchell hoped to get under Amanda's skin.
"Do too!" Amanda yelled.
"Ya, right, you're probably boring her, same ole, same ole." Mitchell laughed.
"Oh ya!" Amanda lunged at Mitchell and the wrestling match was on.
Deb stood at the top of the stairs and listened as the two friends wrestled on the mat, calling each other every name they could think of.
"Do they fight like this often?" She asked Sandy.
Sandy shook her head and smirked. "Is Mitchell due for her period this week?"
"Ah, yes, she is. Deb confirmed. Why?"
"So is Amanda." Sandy flashed her a big smile.
Deb's face took on a look of horror as she began to realize Sandy's meaning.
"You mean those two pms at the same time every month?"
"Yup, they have for about the last eight months of working together. Sandy confirmed. Usually they just argue, but this is their second wrestling match."
Sandy went over and gave Deb a poke on her side.
"Watch and learn." She instructed.
"Amanda Lynn Ellis, stop playing with Mitchell's body and get your asses up here for breakfast!"
Both Sandy and Deb started to laugh when they heard muffled curse words coming from the two big kids downstairs. As the two disheveled bodies made their way up stairs, Sandy pointed to the bathroom down the hall. "Wash!"
With pouting faces, the two headed down the hall and didn't argue with the red haired woman, who stood menacing looking at them, with a wooden spoon in her hand.
"Tell me again why we have to loose ten pounds? Amanda glared at the breakfast Sandy and Deb had prepared for them. "I don't like oatmeal without brown sugar and the fruit needs some honey on it and what the hell is this? Diet jam!"
Sandy gave Amanda a swat on the arm. "Watch your language, Kevin is outside with Whiskey and can hear you."
Both Amanda and Mitchell had come in last week for their yearly physicals. Although, Sandy had wanted Amanda to go see another doctor, Amanda refused and Sandy had no other choice in the matter. "I shouldn't be seeing you Amanda, you're my wife."
Amanda had countered with. "When we can get legally married, then I'll switch doctors. Until then, no one is gonna see my naked anything except for you."
"I told both of you last week. Sandy rolled her eyes at Amanda's whining. It's only ten pounds. You should have no trouble in taking off the weight and keeping it off. No more side trips for ice cream." She pointed her finger at both of them.
"It's not my fault. Mitchell then pointed at Amanda. It's Amanda's, she insists on taking Kevin for ice cream when we pick him up from day care."
"My fault? Amanda then pointed her finger at Mitchell. Did I hold you down and force that hot fudge sundae down your throat on Friday?"
Deb cleared her throat very loudly and glared at Mitchell. "You had ice cream on Friday? I've been cooking and eating low calorie meals all week with you, to try and help and you had ice cream!"
Mitchell opened and closed her mouth twice, not knowing what to say and realized she was "toast."
"Um sorry, hon." Mitchell finally managed to squeak out as Deb continued her glare.
Sandy sat back with a proud look upon her face. Deb's a quick learner, she thought. Mitchell and her will do all right.
The four women continued on with their breakfast and conversation on this beautiful day in San Diego. The sun shone warmly down upon them in the afternoon as they walked along the beach with Kevin. Whiskey ran on ahead and fetched a frisbee that Amanda would throw for her. In her heart and thoughts Amanda thanked who ever was responsible for this moment in time, that she was surrounded by love, friends and family. Holding Sandy's hand, Amanda let go and wrapped her arm around her lover and kissed her softly. "I love you Sandy, thanks for giving me new eyes to see just how beautiful this world can be."
On the other side of the city, two men are sitting at a table drinking strong, hot coffee and ranting about the American pigs they have to deal with. A third man enters the kitchen and sits with them. "Is it ready?" The first man asks. "Yes, already, we will seek our revenge on Monday morning." He responds in an Arab language.
"Have you chosen which hospital, my friend?" The first man asks again.
"The La Jolla Beach Hospital." He says smugly.
As it always does, Monday morning arrived and everyone was off to work. Amanda picked up Mitchell, dropped Kevin off at day care and headed into the station.
Sandy had left for work earlier in the morning. She had rounds to do at the hospital and liked to get started by 8:00am. Her case load of patient's was much lighter this week and by 9:00am she was finished. Returning to her office she was greeted by her secretary, Joan Miller. The two exchanged greetings and asked about the weekend when an explosion rocked the two women's world and sent them into darkness and chaos.
Amanda and Mitchell had parked the car and barely made it to the front step, when they had heard a slight rumbling and noticed smoke off in the distance.
"What the hell was that!" Mitchell asked.
"I don't know, but it looked like an explosion of some sorts." Amanda's heart started to pump double time, as she began to realize the hospital where Sandy worked was over in that area of the city.
Neither one of them got through the station doors, when police officers started running out and headed for their vehicles. Both Amanda and Mitchell were grabbed by Staff Sergeant Jim Riley. "Get over to the hospital you two, the damn thing just blew all to hell !"
Mitchell and Amanda just looked at each other and Mitchell grabbed Amanda's keys. "Sandy's in that mess!" Mitchell led the way as the two women headed back to the car. " Let's go!"
Dr. Sandra Wilson struggled with her conscious thoughts and tried to remember where she was and what had happened. She felt a sharp pain in her forehead and realized the warm stickiness that was on her face was blood. Slowly she took inventory of the rest of her body, feeling secure that nothing was damaged or broken. She carefully shoved debris from off herself and sat up. As fuzzy as her eyesight was, there was no mistake in what she saw, clear blue sky. In looking around she realized that had she been in her office, she would be dead. Her office was gone and so it looked was half of the hospital. Carefully on hands and knees she moved around the floor until she found Joan Miller's body. With a shaky hand she reached out and felt for a pulse on her secretary's neck. Joan was still alive.
Mitchell drove like she was entered in the Indy 500. The portable blue light was flashing as well as the siren blaring. She glanced over at Amanda, who just sat there quietly. Mitchell didn't need to be a mind reader to know what her partner was thinking. As they entered into the hospital's perimeter, Mitchell stopped the car and both women jumped out. Before them, half of the hospital was lying in rubble while the other half looked like a bombed out building in Beirut. Mitchell started to cry as Amanda dropped to her knees and screamed out the only name that her heart ached for. "Sandy!"
Firetrucks, police vehicles and ambulances from everywhere were on scene as quickly as possible. T.V. crews were setting up their stations and reporting any news as it came in. Rescue dogs began sniffing amongst the rubble in order to find bodies, alive or otherwise. In all of the mass of confusion people were frightened that this was going to be another "9/11" attack and waited for the next series of bombs to go off.
In the distance three men laughed at the scene before them and walked away.
Sandy had a headache the size of a football field. Her eyes were still fuzzy and she just wanted to curl up some where and sleep. She knew she had a concussion, but Joan needed her more and she had to focus. Her secretary was still unconscious as Sandy felt for any broken bones and checked for cuts. As much as Sandy could see, Joan's skin colour was very pale and Sandy was worried about internal damage.
The dizziness hit Sandy hard and her stomach was rebelling. Damn, she thought, not now. I've got to stay focused. She tore a large strip of cloth from her tattered lab coat and tried to hold it tightly on her still bleeding forehead. Sandy prayed that her cell phone was still clipped to her belt and that it worked. Her last conscious thought was hoping she had hit the speed dial on her phone and it was Amanda's cell phone number she'd pressed.
A flurry of activity surrounded Amanda and Mitchell, but neither one paid attention. Their world was shattered by the thought of Sandy being trapped or dead in this disaster. Slowly Amanda got to her feet and looked over at Mitchell.
"We'd better get in there and help!" Amanda had taken Mitchell by the hand when her cell phone went off. Momentarily stunned she unclipped the phone, flipped open the cover. The caller I.D. read "Sandy."
"Sandy, Sandy are you all right! Where are you! Sandy!" Amanda realized that no one was speaking on the other end, but when her heart stopped pounding and she listened carefully, she could hear someone breathing and moaning in the background. Sandy was alive, but where was she?
"She's alive Mitchell, let's go!" Amanda was still holding onto Mitchell's hand and started to move, when Mitchell stopped her.
"Go where Amanda? That whole building is ready to fall and there is rubble everywhere. Sandy could be anywhere in this mess." Mitchell just wasn't sure what Amanda had in mind, but knew she wouldn't be able to stop her friend from climbing into Hell and back, if Amanda knew Sandy was there.
"See that opening? Amanda asked. That's where Sandy's office was. But, Joan's office is further inside. That's where I'm betting they are.
"How do you propose we get there?" Mitchell asked.
Amanda's eyes took on a furious look and she grinned. "Grab that rope out of the back and our radio's. We're going in."
"Holy shit!" Mitchell said as she went back to the SUV and grabbed up the items out of the back that Amanda had requested. "God help us crazy dykes."
In the insanity of the situation, both women managed to work their way around rescue workers, firefighters and other police officers. They found their way to the stair well and hoped the most of it was still intact. Other wise it meant rope climbing and both of them were glad in the last week they had at least managed to loose five of the ten pounds. The door to the stairs was locked. Amanda simply took out her revolver yelled at everyone to "watch out!" She blew the lock out with a single shot, yanked the door open and proceeded up the stairs. Damn she thought, eight flights of stairs. Good thing we're in shape.
The first few flights, the stairs were in tact. By the time they reached the fourth floor, their luck had run out. A big gaping hole appeared before them. "Shit!" Amanda cursed. "Just our luck."
Mitchell was still holding on to the rope and was carefully looking around something they could tie the rope around and scale. She almost gave up hope when she spied a pipe that was quite high up, almost to the sixth floor.
"Amanda, look up, over there." Mitchell pointed to the pipe.
Amanda looked at her and grinned. "It's not a calf, Mitchell, still think you can lasso it?"
"Watch me." She grinned.
Sure enough, Mitchell made a lasso at the end of the rope. Carefully she swung the rope around in the tight space and with one effortless throw, she found her mark and pulled the rope tight. Tugging on it for security, the rope and pipe held.
Looking down, both women realized that it would be certain death from the fall, if either of them slipped or the pipe broke.
"I'll go first." Amanda grabbed the rope and scaled it. As she reached the top, it was hard to find something grab on to, to hoist her body up. Her first attempt, sent debris flying and Mitchell had to jump back.
"You ok! Mitchell called.
"Yup, just remind me to change my underwear when this is over with!" Amanda finally found a cement ledge that would hold her weight and she hauled herself up.
Mitchell waited until Amanda gave her the ok and up she went up as well.
As both women stood on the sixth floor, they untied the rope and headed up the remaining steps to the eighth floor. This time, they got lucky as they reached the door. Or what was left of the door. It was blown off the hinges.
It wasn't a pretty site. Patients were trapped in their rooms, calling out for help. There were bodies lying on the hospital floor and neither of the detectives worried about checking for any signs of life on what was left of their bodies.
Amanda called out to anyone who could here her. "This is Detective's Ellis and Blake here folks! Help is coming shortly! Just hold on!"
In the background the two detectives heard shouts of "hurray" as they made their way down to Sandy's office.
Mitchell got on her radio. " This is Detective Mitchell Blake of the San Diego police force. Can anyone hear me?"
"Roger that Detective. I suppose that crazy Ellis is with you?" Came the familiar voice of Captain Anderson.
Oh boy Mitchell thought, we're in shit now. "Yes Captain, she is. We're on the eighth floor of the hospital. We've got survivors here Captain and need help."
"Roger that Detective. Help on the way. Has your partner found Dr. Wilson yet?
The Captain asked, knowing full well, why they were on the eighth floor.
"Not yet Captain, we are still searching." Mitchell radioed back.
"Good luck Blake." The Captain signed off.
Mitchell picked her way through the debris and found Amanda with Sandy in her arms.
"Is she ok?" Mitchell asked.
"She's out cold and has a nasty gash on her forehead, but I think she's fine." Amanda answered back.
Mitchell then bent down to feel for a pulse on Joan. "She's alive Amanda, but her pulse is weak. We'd better get her out of here.
Mitchell radioed down to the Captain once more and instructed him to get a rescue crew up here for Joan and Sandy. The Captain was more then happy to hear the news and sent one up immediately. When both women were secure in the custody of the rescuers, Mitchell stayed and helped with the remaining patients as Amanda went with Joan and Sandy to the nearest hospital.
Sandy awoke and didn't know where she was. As she struggled, a familiar and soothing voice calmed her nerves. "Amanda."
"It's alright Sandy. I'm here." Amanda gently kissed Sandy's hand and re-assured her that she was fine and in the downtown hospital.
"What happened?" Sandy's eye sight was still very blurry and was having problems focusing on Amanda's face.
"There was a terrorist attack on the hospital Sandy. You're ok and so is Joan. Amanda gently touched Sandy's swollen cheek. You've got a gash on your forehead, bruises like you've never had before and a concussion. Is your eye sight still blurry?"
"Yes, very. Sandy replied. Got a drink of water there? I'm thirsty."
"Here, slowly, ok?" Amanda held the straw while Sandy drank the cool liquid.
"Joan, internal bleeding!" Sandy grabbed Amanda's hand.
"Always the doctor. Amanda smirked. They got to her in time. She's fine."
"How did I get here?" Sandy asked.
"Mitchell and I found you. Amanda said. You hit the speed dial on your phone and I knew you were in trouble. We just guessed where you were."
"Do I want to know, how you got to me?" Sandy smiled at her lover and wondered if she really wanted to know the answer.
"No, you just woke up and I don't think you want to know right now." Amanda's tone of voice confirmed Sandy's suspicions.
"You two are crazy, but thank you. I love you. Sandy smiled at Amanda and then realized something. Where's Kevin, is he alright?"
"He's fine." He and Whiskey are staying with Mitchell and Deb right now." Amanda assured her.
"How many people died Amanda?" Sandy's eyes began to tear.
"Sandy, not now. It was a mess and there are still bodies missing. It's going to take days. Amanda knew there was no sense in hiding the truth, but now was not the time. The final count had not come in yet. So far, two hundred dead. Hundreds more injured and who knew how many were still missing.
Who ever had set the bombs, knew what they were doing. No one had claimed responsibility yet. Just another terrorist on the loose and once again Americans were not safe in their homes.
By the end of the week, Sandy was able to come home. Her vision was still a bit blurry, but the eye specialist had assured her, her sight would return to normal within another week.
Before Sandy left the hospital she went in to check on Joan. "Hey lady, who said you could have any sick time?"
Joan laughed at her and held her arms out for a hug. "Hell of a vacation, isn't it? I've been watching the news. You and I got lucky."
Sandy nodded and gave Joan a kiss on the cheek. "We had two crazy detectives, scaling ropes and blowing off door locks with their guns to get to us."
Joan laughed. "Doesn't surprise me. Those two are crazier then the patients on the tenth floor."
Both women exchanged laughter and when Sandy left, Joan realized that she was alive today, because of those two "crazies."
When I get home, she thought, I'll bake them a big chocolate cake in thank you. I'm sure they will have lost that ten lbs. by now, she grinned.
It was another Sunday, but this time the four friends, Kevin and Whiskey, decided to spend the day, relaxing down by the beach.
Amanda sent a silent prayer to the person upstairs, in charge of the heavens and thanked him for watching over Sandy. Her heart also went out to the families of those who didn't come home that day and hoped they would eventually find peace in their hearts.
Amanda leaned over to a dozing Mitchell. "Think we'll find those terrorist bastard's?"
Mitchell just smiled and leaned over towards Amanda. " Go buy some new underwear. I'm quite sure we will."
the end of part 7
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