No one moved. Never had anyone sounded less like family than this unfriendly man.
“Today, while I review your training records and files, I want the team to perform long rig maintenance. I want a mid-shift lineup today at 1700. I expect you to present fully dressed at 0900 for morning line up and uniform inspection. Lunch will be served at 1300 daily after a minimum of 90 minutes of physical training and one hour of educational sessions.”
The group was doing the math. The captain appeared to be cutting out morning team breakfast from his calculation. It would take at least an hour for truck maintenance, over an hour for PT, and one more for education, which left barely enough time to get the shift groceries and make a meal. Presuming they didn’t have to go on any calls.
He continued sternly, “Every day at 1400, I have open captain’s hours for coffee in my office rather than imposing on your mealtime. I encourage the free exchange of ideas between my staff.”
The rest of the team had to be wondering what his version of ‘encourage’ meant. The authoritative tone was an interesting method of achieving trust.
“You are dismissed to change into your regular uniforms. Your current attire appears adequate. I expect perfection in uniforms and dress because it shows attention to detail. We live or die on adherence to protocol, and I expect nothing less from my team. This afternoon we will begin comprehensive department SOP reviews.”
SOP stood for ‘standard operating procedure’ which was a 300-page dry manual. Oh, goody.
“For all of us or the probie?” Luna squeaked.
“The review is for everyone. With an under-strength shift, everyone needs to master everything. I’ll be covering this shift initially for around sixteen hours daily to get your measure.”
“Our shift has the fastest response times and best victim recovery,” Luna retorted hotly.
Knowing his niece well, Soto intervened, noticeably breathless but still authoritative. “That’s enough, Lieutenant. She is correct that due to smaller numbers, we have encouraged initiative among the officers. This shift is known for its initiative.”
“I appreciate your input,” Williams said dismissively. “Why don’t you show me around my house?”
Soto didn’t like the term ‘my house,’ but he wisely chose to draw less attention to Luna. “Right this way. Chief Baker, anything to add?”
The Fire Chief had been mutely watching from the sidelines. “Firehouse 15 is yours.”
“We resume our patch at 1400?” Williams questioned.
“That is correct,” Baker assured him.
Erin controlled her expression because she wanted to glare at him for handing her team over to someone even more robotic.
“Then why don’t you take these three?” Williams indicated the three women. “They’ll be perfect for the photo op.”
Luna bristled the most, but she wasn’t going to argue more in front of the Chief.
The Chief didn’t jump on Williams’s suggestion. “We can’t fit them all into an official vehicle.”
“I assume they are capable of walking the couple blocks to the hospital. It will give me time to settle in without distractions.”
A furrow appeared between Luna’s eyebrows, and Erin didn’t blame her. Had he implied that the women were distracting? Or only Luna who had talked back to him?
Erin could see the Chief was not pleased with this development. He had to decide whether or not he was going to undermine Captain Williams in his first ten minutes of command. “We’ll walk. Knight, Rodriguez, Hudgens, come with me.”
The four blocks to Metro Gen were quiet.
As the group drew closer, the Chief started speaking, “We’re doing a photo op with the Department of Pediatrics. Our new paramedic battalion is partially funded and supported by the hospital.”
“We have enough paramedics to form a battalion?” Luna asked. Her need to know department initiatives was greater than her resentment of their new captain.
“You may not have known, but the power struggle between the hospital systems and the department a few years back emptied the city of paramedics. We inherited a few dozen firefighter-paramedics from the suburban stations, but offered them the option to retrain and join Rescue Alpha instead. It took two years to build capacity for three trucks running 24-hour shifts.”
“Who runs the battalion?” Luna asked.
“Assistant Chief Cordova, presently,” the Chief said.
“Let me get this straight, sir. We’ve had no paramedics for years because this new program made them unavailable,” Erin wanted clarification.
