It was late, almost 11.50pm. Raised voices could be heard coming from room 121 of the Wissettania Hotel. Although the actual content of the argument was inaudible, the man and the woman inside were each giving as good as the got. It is moments later the woman screams, plunging the entire floor into silence. The couple in the room opposite open their door concerned by what they had heard. A man about 5’10", late 20’s or early 30’s, 140lb with dark brown hair wearing a light coloured T-shirt and jeans is seen running from room 121. The husband and wife, in room 122 across the corridor, move to make sure the woman involved in the row is alright but they find her outstretched on the bed wearing nothing but her underwear, her head twisted at an awkward angle.

The police investigation begins when Lieutenant Steve Sloan, a detective in the homicide division of the L.A.P.D., accompanied by his father Dr Mark Sloan, medical adviser to the police (amongst other things), arrive to investigate the scene. A couple of scene of crime experts were also in attendance, fingerprinting, photographing and making notes on any detail they consider important or relevant.

"The couple across the hall witnessed a man leave the room after the fight had taken place, a Mr and Mrs Reynolds," Steve told his father after a brief conversation with a uniformed officer. "They are just giving their statements now."

"Uh-huh," replies Mark wondering how anyone can let an argument get so out of control that someone should end up dead.

"The desk clerk said that the room was registered to a Diana King," Steve continues checking his notebook. "The description he gave of the man with her matches that of the one the Reynolds gave."

The father and son team leave the hotel and head in different directions, Mark Sloan goes to Community General Hospital, where he works as the head of internal medicine, whilst Steve heads back to the station to report the information he had collected that evening before heading for home.

It had been a long night and neither doctor nor detective had gotten much sleep. It was 7.40am when Steve walked into his father’s kitchen from his own apartment downstairs. "How are you feeling son?" Mark asks as he pours two cups of very strong black coffee.

"OK, I guess, and you?"

"Oh nothing that another eight hours sleep wouldn’t cure!" he replies with a chuckle.

"I’m going to go over the notes and statements of the ‘King’ case this morning to see what I can find out. I’ll let you know what I come up with."

"Thanks. I shall be at the hospital all day; Dr Carlisle is away at a cardiac conference in Sacramento so we are one doctor down this shift."

"Talk to you later. Bye." Steve calls as he takes a final slurp at his coffee and heads out the door.

After a bit of digging into Diana King’s background and personal life Steve discovers she was seeing a Kyle Wilson, who coincidently matches the description of that given by the witnesses at the hotel. Picking up the telephone Steve dials his father’s mobile phone number. "Hi, dad. I think we have found our killer…a Kyle Wilson, lives over on Coast View Drive. Do you want to come along?"

"You bet," replies the white-haired doctor.

"I’ll pick you up in 10 minutes, OK?" Steve smiles knowing his dad would have been unable to resist the opportunity to get involved in a murder case.

Steve pulls into the car park, right on time, in his white pick-up truck. Mark climbs into the passenger seat clutching a large manila envelope. "What’s that?" asks Steve as the pair pull out of the car park.

"It’s the coroner’s report. Diana King died from a fractured seventh vertebrate, severing her spinal chord. The ME puts the time of death a approximately 12.15am, but what is interesting is that they managed to find several hairs with the follicles attached, so that a Deoxyribonucleic Acid test…"

Steve interrupts his father’s briefing "A what?"

"Sorry, a DNA test can be performed upon them. Apparently, she must have grabbed at her attackers hair as they fought and pulled a few strands out by the roots."

"So, are you saying that if we can get a sample from Wilson you can prove one way or another that he was her murderer?"

"Yes," Mark nods to his son as they pull up outside Kyle Wilson’s house.

Knocking at the door the two men wait for an answer. A man matching the description of the person they were looking for answers, "Hello?"

"Kyle Wilson? My name is Lieutenant Steve Sloan," showing his badge and ID "and this is my father Dr Mark Sloan. May we come in?"

"Well, yes. What can I do for you?"

"Last night Diana King was murdered in her hotel room. Could you tell us where you were between 11pm and 1am last night?" enquires Steve.

"I was here all night," replies Wilson after a brief pause, allowing the information to sink in.

"Can anyone verify that?"

"N-no. I was alone. I had some reports to catch up on, so I stayed in and I went to bed around 11.30pm, alone."

Steve looks at Mark and then back at Kyle Wilson before inviting him to accompany them back to headquarters.

The questioning at the police station offers no further information. Kyle Wilson continues to protest his innocence, but the specimen he provides for the DNA test proves positive. Steve arrests him for the murder of Diana King.

At the trial Kyle Wilson still denies the murder and pleads not guilty. Mark testifies on behalf of the prosecution as the medical consultant to the LAPD confirming that the DNA taken from the hair follicles clasped in the victim’s hand match those of the defendant. This evidence together with the testimonies of the eyewitnesses convict Kyle Wilson of the unlawful killing of Diana King. Despite his declarations to the contrary, Wilson is sentenced to spend the remainder of his life on ‘death row’.

Two years later.

Mark, Amanda, Jesse, Steve and his new girlfriend Elaine Mitchell are sitting around Mark’s kitchen table eating chicken and salad, enjoying one another’s company, when the beeper on Steve’s belt disturbs the jovial atmosphere. Steve picks up the phone and dials the police station. "Sloan," the smile on his face drops and the others suddenly take notice of the one-sided conversation. "Where? … OK, I’ll be there in 15 minutes." Putting the receiver back in its’ cradle, Steve heads back to the group of anxious onlookers, each one waiting for him to tell them what was up. "We have had another woman attacked, she survived but the man they arrested has just confessed to the murder of Diana King."

"What?" chorus the others in unison.

At the station, Steve returns from a 20-minute interview with Samuel Harris, to his desk where Mark and Jesse are waiting for him. Amanda had returned to her own home to put her son, CJ, to bed; and Elaine had gone back to her apartment.

"It’s true. Harris was able to give us details that were never disclosed to the press, and he is a dead-ringer for Kyle Wilson. It appears that Samuel Harris found out that he had an identical twin after seeing a newspaper clipping of Wilson receiving some award or another for business. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he was going to trade his life for the life of his much wealthier brother, but to do that he needed to find out more about him and how he behaved."

"That’s where Diana King comes in," chips in Jesse.

"Exactly," agrees Steve. "Only she became too greedy and when Harris refused to pay her anymore she tried blackmail, which lead to her death in room 121."

Mark sits back in the chair dumbfounded.

"And Kyle Wilson had no knowledge that he had a brother let alone an identical twin?" asks Jesse.

"No, apparently the two boys had been separated at birth due to a hospital administration error over in San Diego. The mother died in labour, so both boys were adopted."

"The DNA test performed in the original investigation was a match because, with the exception of identical twins, no two people have the same DNA," sighs Mark realising his part in the conviction of an innocent man.

A couple of days later Kyle Wilson is released from the maximum security prison, his death sentence quashed, vowing to himself he would have his revenge.

Tuesday evening, Mark and Steve sit down in front of the television eating a take-away meal of ribs from BBQ Bob’s, when a news report catches their attention.

"A man was pulled from the water of Malibu Lagoon State Beach earlier today. The man has been formally identified as a Mr Maxwell Sanders, an electrical engineer from Glendale. The police are treating the death as suspicious," reports the announcer.

Mark switches off the TV and looks at his son as Steve bites into another of his spiced ribs. "What’s up dad?" Steve asks as he licks his fingers of the red marinade from the meat.

"That man, Steve. I know his face from somewhere, and I just can’t place him."

"Maybe you treated him at the hospital one time."

"Maybe…" Mark drifts away in thought trying to coax his memory into recalling where he had seen Mr Sanders before.

Mark is still unable to relax properly that night as he lay in his bed, the darkness a backdrop for many memories, some good, others not so. Eventually he manages to drop off well into the early hours but only to enjoy a very fitful sleep, leaving him barely rested for the day he is about to encounter in the ER at Community General.

"I hope you are making it strong and black," calls Steve, as he smells the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting down the stairs to his apartment below.

"Coming right up," jokes Mark with the flair of a professional waiter, the kitchen towel draped over his left wrist.

"Cut it out dad," laughs Steve as he switches on the portable radio in the kitchen.

As soon as the final notes of the music track come to an end the broadcaster begins to announce the morning’s news. "Last night’s lottery win of over $20million was won by a factory worker from Pasadena; the police investigating the death of Maxwell Sanders, who drowned yesterday at Malibu Lagoon State Beach, are treating the death as a suicide; Damien Flint a local foot…"

Mark cuts the report off mid-sentence by turning off the radio. "Steve, can you find out what the report says on Sanders death? I’ve got this niggle, and I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe the police report will help.

"Sure. Although, I don’t know what good it’ll do. I’ll drop it around this morning."

"Thanks."

The emergency rooms are unusually quiet this morning. Only a postman with a dog bite to his left calf muscle; a six-year-old boy who broke his leg after playing superheroes jumped off his bed; and an old lady who had scalded herself with her kettle. Dr Sloan is sitting in the doctor’s lounge reading one of the latest medical journals when Dr Jesse Travis and Dr Amanda Bentley enter discussing the finer points of American football. "I’m telling you they should never have replaced Calvin Johnson with that Damien Flint," states Jesse to a half interested Amanda.

"But he looks soooo good in those tight shorts, don’t you think?" jokes Amanda to a despairing Jess.

"I give up! How are you doing Mark?"

"Oh, OK guys," replies the white haired physician.

Moments later Steve arrives with the report on Maxwell Sanders. "Sanders had major financial problems. He made several bad investments, leaving him a virtual bankrupt." Discloses Steve as Mark flicks through the file. Steve’s pager sounds disturbing the silence that had fallen over the entire group. Picking up the phone in the far corner, he selects an outside line and dials out. "Sloan…Elaine, calm down, I can’t understand…OK. I’m on my way – don’t touch anything." Steve replaces the receiver and looks to his father. "Can you get away for a while?"

"Sure, Jess can you cove the ER for me?"

"No problem, what’s up?"

"Judge Malcolm Davies had been found in his chambers – dead. That was Elaine, she’s in a bit of a state. Amanda you had better come too."

On arrival at the courthouse the gang are met by Elaine, who by now has managed to compose herself to some degree. "I knocked at Judge Davies door to hand him some files on this afternoons cases. When there was no answer I entered the room and found him dead with a gun in his hand…" she explained, her voice wavering as she recounted her grisly find. "I had one of the court’s security officers put on guard outside the room with instructions not to let anyone in until you arrived, and I have also cancelled his case load for this afternoon."

"I think maybe you ought to cancel his case load period," remarks Steve after he shows the officer his lieutenant’s badge and enters the judge’s chambers. Again, Elaine begins sobbing as the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Mark escorts her outside before getting one of the guards to take her home to rest. On his return to the chambers he hears Amanda’s preliminary scene-of-crime report. "Steve, I don’t think that this was a suicide. The bullet entry wound is in the left temple yet is obvious he was right-handed from the calluses on his right hand and the ink stain on his middle finger where a pen had leaked whilst he had written something. A quick check through the waste paper bin reveals a pen with smudged ink up its shaft.

"You’re saying he was murdered, right?"

"Yes, from the evidence so far, I believe Judge Malcolm Davies was murdered." Amanda acknowledges.

Mark returns to the hospital with Amanda so he can relieve Jesse and fill him in on the early afternoons events, whilst Amanda continues in her role as medical examiner, to autopsy the body. Steve, however, remains at the courthouse in the futile hope he may discover any witnesses before he returns to the police station, empty-handed.

The autopsy report complete, Amanda Bentley telephones Steve with the results. "Lieutenant Steve Sloan’s phone," answers another of the detectives in the homicide division.

"Can I speak to Steve please? I have his autopsy results."

"Just a sec’," replies the officer. "Steve…phone."

"Thanks. Hello, Sloan."

"Hi Steve, it’s Amanda."

"Hi Amanda. What did you find out?"

"I think you had better come over."

After replacing the handset and grabbing his jacket, Steve leaves headquarters and heads for the pathology department at CGH.

Amanda is sitting at her desk filling in some paperwork when Steve arrives. She hands him a brown file and leaves him a moment or two to look it over before she outlines her findings. "Steve, this was definitely no suicide. The angle of entry of the bullet to the skull is at an unusually high gradient, firing down into the skull; there are no indications of muscle spasm in the left-hand; also there are a lack of powder burns and residue on either hand."

"Which means we are looking for a murderer?" finishes Steve.

Amanda gives him an acknowledging smile.

"Hey," calls Mark, "anyone would think you like it here," he jokes to his son as he and Jesse enter pathology.

"Yeah. Hey, how about you all come round for dinner tonight? I’ll cook." Suggests Steve.

"Are you threatening us?" quips Jesse.

Steve shoots him a hard look before transforming it into a smile. "So do you want to come, or not?"

"Yeah, free food? I’ll be there!!"

"Meet you all back at ours for 7.30pm?"

"OK," chorus Mark, Amanda and Jesse.

As Steve leaves the room he hears Jesse’s final comment, "It’s a good job three doctors are going, if Steve is cooking."

"I heard that!" exclaims Steve from the corridor as Jesse goes several shades of crimson.

Back at his desk, Steve sifts through the information he has managed to collect when he comes across one of the files from a previous case that should have been filed a while ago. "Steve, filing was never one of your strong points!" he remarks to himself. It was the Diana King murder case. Just as he is about to drop the file into the cabinet something catches his eye. The judge handling the case was Judge Malcolm Davies. Steve’s mind begins to race as he flicks through the case file, memories of the trial replaying in his head – finally the verdict, the foreman stands and proclaims the defendant, Kyle Wilson, guilty of the murder of Diana King. Steve’s mind flashes to the face of the foreman – it’s Maxwell Sanders!

Steve realises the implications and tries desperately to contact his father, one of the witnesses who had helped to put Wilson behind bars, but when the nurse on the ER nurse’s station answers she informs him that Dr Sloan, Dr Bentley and Dr Travis have all just left. Steve slams the phone down and races out of the door before the handset even finishes rocking in its’ cradle. With lights flashing and sirens wailing he makes good time, he just hopes that it will be enough.

After a long day at Community General Hospital Mark, Jesse and Amanda head out of the main entrance ready to enjoy the meal Steve had promised them. Engrossed in conversation Mark doesn’t notice the approach of a vehicle speeding towards him. With no thought for his own safety, Jesse rushes into the road and pushes Mark out of the vehicle’s path, just in time. However, Jesse is not so fortunate and the vehicle strikes him sending the young doctor over the roof, he lands motionless in the road, as the vehicle speeds out of the car park. Mark dashes to Jesse’s side, whilst Amanda runs back inside to get extra emergency help. "Hold on Jess," Mark softly whispers to his brave friend as he applies pressure to the gash in Jesse’s leg to stem the bleeding. Checking Jesse’s pulse Mark realises that his heart has stopped and immediately begins CPR as the medical back up arrives, taking Jesse’s lifeless form back into the ER. A melee of doctors and nurses surround the injured young doctor in what appears a chaotic frenzy, yet each person has a job to do which they do efficiently and effectively bringing a satisfying regular beep…beep…beep to the heart monitor attached to Dr Travis’ bare chest.

Only now does Dr Mark Sloan allow himself to slide down the wall to the floor and place his head between his knees as the room around him starts to spin. Amanda sits beside him and places her arm around the white-haired physician, a tear rolling down her cheek from the heavily laden wells in her dark brown eyes. Words were not necessary, as both friends knew exactly how the other was feeling.

Steve Sloan arrives at the hospital almost frantic. "Dad? Dad? When you weren’t at home I …" his voice trails away as he realises something is very wrong.

"Steve, it’s Jess," begins his father, sadness filling his deep blue eyes and tightening his throat leaving him unable to continue, so Amanda breaks the news to Steve.

Outside the window of I.C.U. where Jesse Travis is being monitored stands Kyle Wilson, cursing himself and the young doctor for ruining his plans.

"Did you see who it was in the car, or get the registration?" Steve asks the two emotionally drained doctors.

"I did get a glimpse of the driver, but it was only for a second," replies Amanda trying desperately to compose herself.

"Is this the man?" asks the detective as he shows Amanda a photograph of Kyle Wilson taken from his criminal record.

"Yes, I think so. Err, it all happened so fast, but yes that’s the driver, I’m certain."

Steve heads straight for the telephone, dials out and issues an APB on Kyle Wilson for the attempted murder of Jesse Travis.

"I was on my way over here to warn you about Wilson," Steve says remorsefully. "I tried calling but you’d already left."

"Wilson?" Mark enquires as he raises his head from the bowed position it was in.

"Yes, Kyle Wilson. It seems he’s going after all those who helped to convict him two years ago. First was Maxwell Sanders,"

"I thought that was a suicide," interrupts Amanda.

"We all did, but it turns out he was the foreman on the jury at the trial and Judge Malcolm Davies was the presiding judge."

"What about the other witnesses?" asks Mark.

"We’re still checking that at the moment, Detective Cooper is going to contact me when he finds out."

Dr John Frasier enters the doctor’s lounge where the group are waiting for the news on Jesse’s condition. "Mark, we’ve managed to stabilise him. Jesse’s condition is very serious and it could go either way."

"Thanks John," replies Mark as he closes his eyes tight in an effort to compose himself, the normally youthful senior surgeon suddenly showing his years. Steve and Amanda hold each other in a close embrace for support.

The beach house is in total darkness when Mark finally reaches his home. What had been planned as a relaxing evening of food, friends and fun had quickly turned into a never-ending nightmare, which was far from over as Mark was about to discover.

Dropping his keys on the desk in his study, Mark sits in the swivel chair before pressing the ‘play’ button on his answering machine to retrieve the three messages indicated. The first voice crackles over the loud speaker "Hello, Dr Sloan this is Marvin at ‘Good Time Videos’, your copy of ‘Casablanca’ is in and ready for collection; a bleep indicates the second message is playing and the caller is Jesse. "Hey Mark. I know I said I’d come round for dinner tonight, but I may be a bit late. I just remembered I have to catch the dry-cleaners before they close for the evening, so tell Steve not to burn mine, OK!" This message brings a sad smile to the older doctor’s face as he pictures Jesse arriving to a well cremated offering at the dinner table, before remembering that his friend is in a serious condition with drips and wires attached all over his body. The final message sends an uncomfortable shiver down Mark’s spine, "That young doctor should never have done that. It is you, Dr Sloan, who should be lying in that hospital room right now. No matter, you’ll be there soon enough."

When Steve comes home with Elaine, he finds his father sitting ashen faced at the kitchen table staring into space. "Dad? What’s wrong? Is it Jess? He’s not…" Steve’s words trail away as the fear of not knowing causes his mind to think the worst.

Shaking his head, "No, no." Mark replays Steve the recorded messages, his head hung low. "Steve, it should be me in that hospital now, not Jesse."

"Dad, it’s not your fault. We need to help Jess now and the best way we can do that is to catch this guy before anyone else gets hurt, or worse."

Mark looks into his son’s eyes. "Jess is like another son to me and a brother to you. He risked his life to save mine."

"And that’s why we have to help him now," replies Steve. Both men hug, drawing strength from each other.

When both father and son had managed to overcome their emotion they both agree to begin work on the case the following morning after they both get some much needed sleep. Steve and Elaine head off downstairs to Steve’s apartment and Mark retires to his bedroom.

In the darkened bedroom a shadowy figure creeps stealthily towards the sleeping figure of Dr Mark Sloan, a broad smile spreading across the intruders’ face. A length of ‘duck tape’ is placed over the mouth of the sleeping doctor, waking him instantly. Mark’s assailant jumps upon his chest in an effort to restrain the struggling physician, whilst he handcuffs Mark’s wrists, one to each side of the headboard in a spread-eagle fashion. Steve, oblivious to his father’s nightmare, sleeps through contentedly.

Next morning, after Elaine has already left for her own apartment to freshen-up, Steve goes upstairs to have breakfast with his father. With the upstairs unit still in darkness and no sign of his father about the house, Steve becomes concerned. "Dad? Dad?" he calls. At first, Steve hears nothing and thinks to himself "I guess dad must have been called into work early this morning," when a noise from one of the rooms catches his attention. Removing his weapon from its’ holster on his belt, he prepares himself for the possibility that there may be an intruder or burglar within. The muffled noises seem to get louder as Steve approaches the main bedroom. Nothing prepares him for what he sees as he opens the door. Mark is lying in the crucifix position, with a handwritten note pinned to his pyjamas that reads:

Steve releases his father from his bindings and holds him tight. He realizes what might have happened if Kyle Wilson had not decided to play his mind games upon the father and son duo.

A quick check-up at Community General puts the detective’s mind at rest, his father’s only injury is the chaffing to his wrists and a little stiffness in his holders. Amanda enters the examination room just as the two men are about to leave. "Mark, I just heard, are you alright?"

"Yes, I’m fine. How’s Jess?"

"I’ve just come from his room. He’s stable but there’s still no improvement yet."

Mark closes his eyes and shakes his head, worried for his sick friend’s life. "Son, I’ve got to go and see Jesse. Can you hang on for a while?"

"Sure. I’ll just ring the station and let them know what’s going on. I’ll meet you up there, OK?" Mark nods and heads off in the direction of the elevator. "Amanda, is my father alright?" asks Steve, concerned.

"Well, his check-up was fine," she replies glancing at his chart, "But I’m worried about his emotional state." Steve places his arm around her shoulder as Amanda reciprocates by placing her arm around his waist. The two of them watch Mark enter the elevator and push the button for the fourth floor and ICU.

At Jesse’s bedside Mark holds his friend’s hand and whispers softly to him "I’m sorry Jess. This is all my fault and I promise to catch the person who did this to you. Just don’t give up Jess, don’t give up. We love you. You’ve got to get well." Mark squeezes his friend’s hand once more and heads to the door, glancing over his shoulder briefly before leaving. The tears welling in the older doctors crystal blue eyes.

Steve catches up with his father outside Jesse’s room. "Dad? Are you OK?" Without saying a word Mark just nods his response. Steve continues with his monologue, aware that his father is gripped with sadness, "I just heard from headquarters, the other witnesses in the original Wilson case, Mr and Mrs Reynolds, were killed in a massive RTA over 18 months ago; and the prosecuting lawyer died of a heart attack shortly after Wilson’s conviction."

Mark finishes Steve’s report, "That just leaves you and me, if he is going after all those connected with this case."

"That’s right," agrees Steve as both men stare at the motionless body of their friend, through the glass window of Jesse Travis’ room.

Two days pass by uneventfully; Jesse remains in a coma, his condition critical but stable; and there have been no reported sightings of Kyle Wilson.

Mark and Steve are enjoying their breakfast upon the balcony whilst reading the morning’s papers. "I’d better make a move," remarks Mark as he folds his newspaper neatly. "I’ve got surgery in a couple of hours, and I want to check in on Jess."

Steve glances at his watch, "Yeah. I’m just going to finish this article on local dirt bike racing," he said pointing to a piece in the sports section. "What do you say we meet up for lunch? I want to call in on Jesse too."

"Great idea. How about 1 o’clock, OK?"

"See you then."

"Can you lock up?"

"Yes, OK."

Mark takes a final mouthful of coffee before he picks up his car keys and leaves via the back stairs. Whistling away to one of his favourite tunes, Mark climbs into his car, but his cheerful mood is abruptly ended when he hears a definite ‘click’ as he sits in the drivers’ seat. Mark has been involved in enough police cases to know that something is very wrong.

Steve had said his goodbyes to his father over 20 minutes earlier, so he was surprised to see him still sitting in his car on their driveway. Steve approaches his father, curious as to why he was still at home and not at the hospital. "What’s up Dad?" but the look on his father’s face was enough to tell him all was not well. Drawing his 9mm Beretta from its’ holster, Steve scans the surrounding area looking for obvious threats. Moving closer Mark expresses his suspicions. Carefully, Steve checks beneath Mark’s seat. A device with wires, circuitry and explosives is mounted under Mark’s chair. Steve looks into his fathers’ eyes, without a single word spoken both men knew the implications.

Fifteen minutes pass before the senior bomb squad officer introduces himself to the incapacitated doctor. Captain Banowski is dressed in grey fatigues, an armoured bodyguard around his chest and arms, and a helmet with a clear visor over his face.

"The area has been cleared 500 meters in each direction and all the properties have been evacuated in the area," reports a uniformed officer to Lieutenant Steve Sloan.

Captain Banowski crouches down to inspect the device, "You’re lucky, there doesn’t seem to be a timer."

"Yeah, lucky!" remarks Steve sarcastically. Mark just smiles a crooked smile at the explosives expert.

"It’s a pressure trigger; and if you are going to be smart I’ll have you removed." He looked at Steve with a meaningful stare.

"Sorry," apologised the detective.

The rest of the bomb squad team had placed a protective screen around the ‘danger zone’.

"Look," begins Banowski as he pulls Steve to one side "if you are staying, you need to be ‘suited up’." Pointing to an officer standing by one of the bomb squad vehicles "See Officer Lucas, he’ll give you what you need and he’ll give you something for your father too." A gentle smile was exchanged between the two professionals.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Mark’s convertible he asks his father "How are you doing?"

"OK, I guess, although my right leg has gone to sleep!" Rocking his head back on the rest behind him, his eyes shut trying to block the pain and numbness from his mind, not daring to hotch or make himself more comfortable.

Steve and Banowski carefully help Mark into a protective jacket without disturbing the bomb.

Lowering to his hands and knees, Captain Banowski leans into the cramped foot well, in an attempt to access the device and defuse the explosives.

By this time, quite a crowd of onlookers had gathered at the edge of the security line, Kyle Wilson among them.

Back at the bomb site Mark and Steve have time to review their case, with Banowski listening to the father and son team with interest.

"Right, this is the tricky bit," declares the bomb squad chief, interrupting the two occupants’ discussion. "Time for you to leave, Sloan."

"But…" his objections cut short.

"Look. If this all goes pear-shaped, I don’t want any unnecessary deaths on my conscience." Reluctantly, Steve leaves but not before he declares his love for his father, nor Mark’s love for his son. "That’s a special relationship you share," remarks Banowski.

Steve heads out of the screened area, but had not gone more than 25 meters when and explosion rocks the neighbourhood, shattering windows, setting off car alarms and knocking Steve to the ground.

Steve yells "DAD…" and rushes back to the site of the explosion, only to be restrained by two other bomb squad officers.

Kyle Wilson smiles contentedly and leaves.

The zip on the second black body bag is pulled into place as chief medical examiner, Dr Amanda Bentley, supervises the collection of the bodies involved in the explosion. "Take them to Community General," she orders the men transporting the black plastic shrouds. Amanda sees Steve sitting alone on the pavement leaning against a telegraph pole. To Amanda it appeared as if he had suddenly aged ten years. Steve looked up into her eyes. The normal spirit and zest for life were gone, replaced only by emptiness. Suddenly, Steve jumps to his feet, as if something had stung him, taken over by a rage, the likes of which Amanda had never seen before. She grabs his arm, and almost as quickly as it had arrived, the anger inside dispelled as again Steve’s emotions roller coaster. Amanda pulls Steve into her arms and they hug. As the two of them pull apart she asks Steve to meet her in the pathology department at CGH, as there is something of great importance she must share with him. Steve switches to ‘autopilot’ and agrees to meet her there in about 20 minutes. Amanda kisses him softly on his left cheek and returns to her car.

When Steve arrives at pathology he is met by Amanda, who hugs him once more. "Steve, there is something you need to know about this afternoons explosion."

"I don’t think I can do this Amanda." He knew, from his tours in Vietnam, what damage an explosion could do to a person in such close proximity as his father was. Amanda pulls back the cotton sheet covering the body upon the cadaver table. It was Mark, very dusty, streaks of black smoke and soot across his face. Without warning Mark sits up, catching Steve unawares and unprepared, causing the detective to pass out. Amanda and Mark look down at the prone figure on the floor; they look at each other and chuckle. "Maybe we should have let him in on our little secret," notes Mark, a wicked smile on his face. Captain Banowski also ‘rises from the dead’; the beginnings of a trap to catch a murderer are laid.

The hospital grapevine spreads the news of Dr Mark Sloan’s death, leaving the majority of the hospital staff extremely upset, particularly the nurses, who had great respect and affection for the white-haired physician.

Unknown to Steve, Mark or Amanda, Jesse regains consciousness, and it’s not long before he finds out why some of the nursing staff are in tears. The young doctor tries to take in the news, but in his present condition, it is all too much for his weakened body to bear, sending Jesse into shock. The emergency signals ring in his room and at the nurse’s station. "Patient in 3 is coding," calls a nurse.

Doctors and nurses appear from every direction, all heading for Jesse Travis’ bedside. Amanda arrives just as the emergency signals sound, and watches her friend slipping away from the grip of his mortal body. The medical team use the defibrillator and an injection of adrenalin to return a heartbeat on the monitor attached to Jesse’s chest. "Come on Jess, you’ve got to come back. I need you, CJ needs you, but most of all Steve is going to need his best friend," whispers Amanda as the medical team stabilise their patient for a second time leaving him in a state of unconsciousness again.

Steve arrives at Jesse’s bedside when the panic is over. Quietly, both friends reassure Jesse that everything is going to be OK. "Trust us Jess." The body before them lays silent and motionless, but Amanda reassures Steve, "He may still be able to hear what we are saying."

With their trap now baited, Wilson believing Steve to be the only remaining target, it is up to Mark and Amanda to help Steve catch this serial killer before he can complete his deadly agenda. Steve is fitted with a miniature electronic communication device, together with the telephone recording system and listening devices throughout his apartment.

Outside the courthouse, Elaine Mitchell is preparing to leave for lunch. She had planned to meet up with a few of her colleagues to celebrate the birthday of one of the girls in her office. A tall man, in his early thirties and dark brown hair walks up behind her and sticks the cold hard barrel of a handgun into her back. The gun is concealed by a raincoat draped over the wrist of Kyle Wilson. In a gruff voice, Wilson utters "Scream, and I’ll pull the trigger now – I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to." Terrified, Elaine does exactly what her kidnapper says.

Back at the beach house, the phone rings. Setting up the recording system first, Steve answers, "Sloan."

"If you want to see your girlfriend alive again you had better do as I say." Wilson revels in his control of the situation. "Do you know Cross Creek Road?"

"Yes," Steve’s reply is firm, not letting his fear for Elaine’s safety show.

"Follow that for 200 meters, ‘til you get to an unmade road; take that turning and proceed to a cabin with a brown picket fence out front. Come alone – any sign of the cops and I will kill Miss Mitchell, the same as I killed your father! You’ve got 20 minutes."

Steve looks into the phone as Kyle Wilson hangs up, the echoes of his voice still ringing in Steve’s ears. "Did you get that?"

Mark nods as Steve snaps out of shock and rushes to the door. "Be careful son, it’s probably a trap."

"I know Dad, and I will be, I promise, but Elaine is involved now and I need to save her from this creep." The sound of Steve’s vehicle screeching out of the front drive leaves Mark rolling his eyes and saying a silent prayer.

Clothed in a bulletproof vest, Steve arrives at the arranged site, which initially appears deserted. Steve stops his truck a little way from the cabin. Crouched in the foot well on the passenger’s side is Captain Banowski, the only other person Steve is able to trust and must depend upon as his back up. With his weapon drawn, Steve exits his truck and cautiously moves nearer the building, his eyes constantly surveying the surrounding area. He whispers his movements to Banowski and the other officers sitting in vehicles in a road just off this one, out of sight but close enough to call upon should he require assistance in a hurry.

The cabin was small; the picket fence around it was in great need of repair. The gate, only hanging on by one of its hinges was already open inviting the detective into the overgrown garden. Steve has a final quick look around before he turns the handle and enters the dimly lit room. The glass in two of the windows was smashed, the others so filthy they let very little light into the small room.

It took a moment or two for Steve’s eyes to adjust to the darkened conditions from the bright sunshine of outside. Slowly, he could make out the outline of someone sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. Moving closer, he is able to see that it is Elaine, and that she is tied to a wooden chair. The tape across her mouth prevents her from issuing the warning to stop Steve getting any closer. Too late! Steve crosses the beam Wilson had set up, triggering the timer on the explosive device strapped to her chest. The red digital figures begin to count backwards from five minutes.

Steve rushes to Elaine’s side and calls Banowski. "Elaine’s here and she has a bomb strapped to her chest. I need you, there’s a timer with only 4 minutes and 49 seconds remaining!"

Banowski leaves the safety of the truck to disarm the device. A shot rings out. Steve and Elaine duck down and Banowski falls to the ground, the wound in his leg preventing him from reaching the cabin; scrambling on his hands and knees, commando style, he manages to take cover behind Steve’s truck. "It’s down to you now, Sloan. I’ll help you, but I need you to remain calm and describe everything to me, OK?"

Steve’s eyes widen as he realises the enormity of his task. "What do you need to know?" he asks his mouth drying out as he tries to quell the anxiety building within him.

"What does it look like? What components can you see?"

"There’s a timer, a circuit, explosives and what looks like a battery. The timer reads 3 minutes and 42 seconds."

"What about wires, can you see any wires, and where does each one lead?"

"Yes, four. A red from the battery to the timer; green from the battery to the circuit; blue from the circuit to the explosives, and yellow from the battery to the explosives."

"Is there another wire leading from the battery to anywhere?"

Steve checks. "Yes, a black one, but I can’t see where it goes. It disappears somewhere behind the timer."

Banowski curses quietly to himself. "It probably goes to an anti-tampering device. Now listen carefully, do you have anything to cut the wires with?"

Steve rummages around in his jeans pockets and pulls out a pocket knife. "Every good boy scout should never leave home without his trusty pen knife," jokes Steve in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Steve’s hands tremble as Banowski directs him, the seconds ticking away, only 1 minute 27 seconds left. Elaine’s face white and her eyes wide with fear looks to Steve who returns his best ‘trust me’ look before continuing with Banowski’s instructions.

"OK, disconnect the green wire first."

"Steve cuts the green wire. "Nothing happened!" he exclaims.

"That’s good – it means you haven’t blown yourselves up!"

"What?"

"Right, now I need you to cut these wires in sequence, OK?"

"Yes."

"Blue, yellow then red."

"Blue, yellow, red." Steve repeats, making sure he has them in the correct order. "Blue…yellow…red," pausing briefly between each on as he cuts through the wires. The clock stops with just eight seconds remaining. "What about the black one?" asks Steve.

"Remove the timer box, can you see where it leads now?"

Carefully, Steve removes the digital clock from the lethal waistcoat that Elaine had been fitted with. "There’s a second detonator!" exclaims Steve.

"Quick! Cut the black wire, it’s a remote!"

Steve cuts the back cable a fraction of a second before Kyle Wilson presses the remote button, after he realises the explosion is overdue.

Inside the cabin, Steve unties Elaine and she removes the explosives before hugging her hero, tears streaming down her cheeks. The two of them kiss in a passionate embrace before Steve pulls away to go after Kyle Wilson. Steve instructs the officers waiting nearby, "The device is now disabled and safe. Wilson is armed and considered extremely dangerous; approach with caution – but let’s get this guy!"

A scuffle between two plain-clothed detectives and a third man erupts about 50 meters from the cabin. Kyle Wilson is arrested trying to escape.

Now securely handcuffed, Mark Sloan approaches from one of the police vehicles having witnessed everything.

"I thought I had killed you," states a dumbfounded Wilson.

"It was just and illusion,…just an illusion." Mark shakes his head as Wilson is lead away. Mark examines Captain Banowski’s wound, and whilst he secures a pressure bandage around the bullet entry point he thanks the bomb squad cheif for saving both his son’s and Elaine Mitchell’s lives.

Steve and Elaine exit the cabin, Steve’s arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Mark pats his son on the back before he heads back to CGH with the paramedics, who are stretchering the wounded officer to their waiting ambulance.

Back at Community General, Jesse has been transferred out of ICU and is now sitting semi-comfortably up in bed listening to Amanda bring him up to date on all that he has missed over the past few days.

"Care for a few more visitors?" asks a friendly voice.

Jesse looks up and welcomes his best friend, his best friend’s girlfriend, and his best friend’s father and colleague into his room. "Hey guys, great to see you all!"

"How are you doing?" asks Mark. "You had us all worried there, not just once, but twice – don’t do that again or else I will have a heart attack myself," he jokes.

"I won’t, I promise," replies Jess rather sheepishly, a broad grin across his boyish face.

The friends only stay a few minutes so as not to tire Jesse too much.

At the beach house, one week later…

"It’s ironic that Kyle Wilson, an innocent man, wrongly convicted of a murder he didn’t commit, should go out and commit two murders, not to mention almost killing you, Mark and Jesse," comments Amanda as she places down a bowl of salad and basket of bread upon the table in front of a very hungry looking Jesse and Steve.

"And now he’s back on ‘death row’ with his identical twin," remarks Steve.

"But how did he learn about bombs?" asks Amanda.

"Ahh, he learnt that from one of the inmates on ‘death row’, Michael Blain aka the ‘Bel Air Bomber’. He managed to learn enough about the construction and use of everyday household objects and chemicals to build the bombs that were attached to Elaine and put in my car," replies Mark as he puts a plate of pasta and sauce down on the table.

"Let’s just hope he doesn’t get out again, as there’s no telling what this guy could have learned," declares Amanda.

"Maybe the genes to kill were already there, just lying dormant; and that the DNA testing wasn’t so wrong after all," states Jesse.

"That’s enough shop talk. Now it’s time for a celebration," says Mark. "Happy Birthday Jesse!"

"Happy Birthday Jess!" they all chorus.

"It’s great to be another year older," declares Jesse.

"Ahh yes, but are you any wiser?" questions Amanda playfully, to which Jesse shoots her a wry smile.

The friends all laugh together as they enjoy one of Mark’s special pasta dishes.

24^th January, 2002.