With no opposition, though, the bomb disposal team quickly defused the mines, and the soldiers took control of the ship in short order. Defusing each of the delaying bombs had required only a minute, but each minute proved to be a very costly delay.
After a brief search of both ships, the soldiers discovered the location of the bombs inside the containment vessels. The bomb squad immediately had the tools brought to them to open the man hatches and began the slow process of loosening the two dozen large bolts that held the hatches in place. It was a valiant effort, but there were just too many bolts and not enough time. While they worked at opening the man hatches, the first bombs in the pipe maze at the terminal exploded!
Huge red, yellow, blue, and white flames broiled into the sky as the entire pipe maze seemed to explode at once. The huge metal pipes splintered into millions of sharp, twisted pieces of shrapnel, cutting through the soldiers and police positioned around the pipe maze and on the nearby ship.
The first portion of the shockwave—the huge blast of superheated air pushed ahead of the actual debris from the explosion—blew into and through the terminal’s main office and security trailer a millisecond after the pipe maze exploded. Four dozen people, who had believed they were safe at three-quarters of a kilometer away from the police action, were killed in an instant.
The shockwave then blasted its way across the nearby Autobahn sending cars, trucks and buses careening into each other and, in many cases, over the retaining walls and down onto the businesses below or into the waterways. The shockwave was followed a millisecond later by thousands of pieces of debris from the pipe maze that began to rain down, causing even more chaos for a kilometer around.
Before any of the bombs on board the tanker could detonate on their own, the red hot metal shrapnel, some of which weighed several tons and was so hot it was practically molten, crashed down on one of the ship’s pressure tanks puncturing it and causing the pressurized vessel to explode, igniting the other two vessels.
The blinding white flash and the superheated shockwave instantly incinerated everything within five kilometers! The other nearby oil storage tanks and the LNG tanker ship in the river all exploded less than a millisecond later, adding their fury, power and debris to the explosive destruction and flames that now extended the blast radius to over ten kilometers. Anything inside of six kilometers not made of heavy steel or stone was obliterated.
The downtown business district saw the windows of every building blown out and turned into billions of small projectiles that sliced through both buildings and people as if they were made of warm butter. Thousands of people died as they were perforated by the debris, saving them from experiencing flash incineration when the wall of superheated air shot over them, turning their bodies to ash and melting steel I-beams into puddles on the ground. In the aftermath, nothing would be found inside the blast radius except charred bits of stone, puddles of steel, and a dark ash that was whipped about by the wind into a putrid dust storm.
Between six and ten kilometers from the blast zone, the charred remains of what had been people would be found, but they would be so badly burned that only their teeth did not crumble to ash at the touch. Between ten and fifteen kilometers out, car hulls remained, although they were burned and twisted by the heat caused by the gargantuan explosion fueled by the two LNG tankers and the millions of barrels of other petroleum products scattered around Hamburg. This included the gasoline and diesel that all of the cars, trucks, planes and trains had stored in their tanks that also exploded in the holocaustic conflagration quickly spreading over a twenty kilometer radius.
Yousef had nearly reached the required safe distance away when he saw a military helicopter pass to his left and circle around in front of him, less than a kilometer ahead. He knew in his heart that they had come for him. It was confirmed when he saw several heavily armed men fan out from the helicopter as it landed, setting up a perimeter to entrap him. Yousef slowed briefly to try and figure out a plan for evasive action when the bright flash of the explosions reflected in his car mirrors, temporarily blinding him. In a panic, he jammed on the gas, praying to Allah to survive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Yousef’s car was hurtled into the air as the shockwave, traveling at over twelve thousand meters per second, unleashed a maelstrom on the Autobahn. The G-forces of the shockwave caused him to black out. When he came to, he found himself upside down and trapped inside his severely battered car.
He had no idea how long he had been out. He had no idea where he was, either. With a quick glance, he found all the windows in the car had been shattered and the windscreen blown completely out. The metal surrounding him was hot to the touch, but he tried to force open the door anyway, only to give up after failing to move it and burning his shoulder on the smoldering metal frame.
Yousef noticed the distinct smell of gasoline drifting over him on the noxious breeze that swirled around him. Focusing for a moment, he listened intently for any sound, but there was none whatsoever. Had he been deafened by the blast wave? He then realized that his vision was blurry, and he was having trouble focusing.
Wiping his hand across his face, it came away with blood on it, and he felt a sharp burning sensation above his right eye. He gently ran his fingers over the spot again and remembered that he had been grazed by a bullet while escaping the ship. The wound felt deep, and it was still bleeding, even if it was just a trickle.
He tried to move, only to experience excruciating pain shoot through his body. His right leg felt as if it had been set on fire as a searing hot flame of pain shot upward through his hip at the slightest movement. He looked down and saw that his leg was twisted at an odd angle and that his thigh appeared to be impaled upon the gear shift knob. The bloody patch on his pant leg where the shaft of the shifter met his leg confirmed his diagnosis. He then noticed that his hands were covered in first- and second-degree burns. They hurt simply by looking at them.
His final realization was that he was lying upside down and sideways in his seat with the seat belt wrapped around him. It was twisted so tightly against his ribs that it pinned him to the seat and made it hard to breathe. He then took several minutes assessing each of the wounds he had suffered and the points of pain he was feeling. He decided his leg and his head were the most serious. Both needed medical care urgently.
He then, for the first time, looked beyond the car’s interior, and his heart began to race with joy.
It was almost a reflex reaction for him. His hatred of the infidels was so ingrained, so complete, that upon seeing the utter destruction all around him, he became joyous.
Darkness settled over him as he passed out. When he came to, his hearing had returned. At least he thought it had, but he wasn’t sure because all he was hearing was a soft, low crackling and a dull roaring sound in the background—the sound that one might hear when looking at a waterfall from some distance or while standing a short distance from a large fire. Fire! The thought sent a wave of terror through his conscience thoughts. Yes, fire is what it sounded like.
Suddenly, he became aware of the scent of burning gasoline and burning flesh. He craned his head around so that he could look out the back window. His car was on fire!
A wave of panic swept over him, and he began struggling to free himself from the twisted seatbelt. Pain surged through his body with every move, and the darkness began closing in again. He fought to remain conscious, knowing that if he did not escape from the car, he would die. With great effort and through unbearable pain, he slowly pulled his thigh free of the gear shift knob. There was sucking sound as it popped free, and for the next few moments, Yousef lay still as he fought back the pain and the blackness that sought to envelop him.
Reaching behind him, his fingers searched for the seatbelt release. He stretched as far as he could, forcing himself to endure sharp pain in his left shoulder and his ribs until he felt he could reach no farther. The darkness finally closed in, and once more, he lost consciousness. He awoke to
find himself struggling to breathe. He forced himself to take several deep breaths of harsh, putrid air as he fought back the continually threatening darkness, and for a moment, he had no idea where he was. His senses seemed to have failed him, and he lay there dumbfounded until the growing heat of the flames sparked his memory. He again reached for the button to undo the seatbelt and found it had already been released. With joy and an overwhelming sense of urgency, Yousef slowly began to extricate himself from the burning car. He had to do it one handed, since his left arm would not work for some reason. Each time he attempted to move, the pain shot through his body, convincing him to make do with his right arm alone.
Dragging himself through the windscreen opening, his leg ached deeply, sending bolts of red hot pain coursing through his body with each exertion. Each time he grasped the car’s frame, his hand felt as if it had been set on fire. When he pulled it away to reach for another handhold, bits of skin peeled away; and yet he continued. The sound of the rushing wind filling his ears was a constant reminder that he was trapped in a burning car. If he failed to keep moving, he would die. Yousef prayed for Allah to provide him with the strength and the courage to pull himself just the few meters needed to reach safety. He reached again for a handhold and pulled.
It took him almost five minutes of excruciating pain to escape the car. Once free, he lay on the pavement only a few feet away from what was left of his smoldering vehicle, trying to gather his senses and to let the waves of pain subside. He was jolted from his complacency by the hot breath of the wind as it blew over him. He was startled by it, since he had no idea, once again, where he was or how long he had been there. He struggled to a sitting position, fighting back the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him. The effort had confirmed he had dislocated his left shoulder, and he would need someone to help him pop it back into place, leaving him with one arm until then. When he looked back towards Hamburg, all he could see from horizon to horizon was smoke and flames. The city was on fire, just as it had been after the carpet bombing in World War II, causing Yousef to beam from ear to ear.
His revelry was cut short by the realization that the flames were marching towards him spurred on by the winds created by the fires behind it. The time for resting was over. He had to move now, while he was still far enough ahead of the flames to outrun them. He struggled to his feet and looked back again at what was once Hamburg and smiled. He whispered, “Inshallah!” and “Allahu Akbar!” to himself, knowing it was God’s will that he survived such a horrendous blast when people all around him had died.
The pace of Yousef’s stagger was that of small child shortly after having mastered the art of standing. He stumbled forward, dragging his leg and breathing heavily as a way of focusing on his goal of escaping rather than on the pain. Several meters down the road, he encountered what was left of the helicopter—now just a burned out hulk with the remains of the pilot and co-pilot still strapped in their seats. Yousef glanced around for the other men who had jumped from the helicopter, but could not find anything even resembling them. Not even their body armor or weapons. Everything that might have identified them had been incinerated or blown away by the shockwave.
Smoke continued to billow up from the smoldering ruins of hundreds of cars, toppled trees and the buildings that had lined the roadway. The air was filled with the stench of burnt flesh and the charred remains of modern German society. Homes, offices, factories and convenience stores all suffered the same fate at the hands of the shockwave and initial firestorm. Each breath was a struggle; the smoke-filled air burned his throat and lungs, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t let the flames catch him. Coughing and hacking, he continued down the road, the hot wind at his back urging him forward.
Behind him in the distance beyond the wall of smoke and flames, a huge mushroom cloud reached several dozen kilometers skyward where it spread east and west on the jet stream, blocking out the afternoon sun until it seemed to be dusk. Yousef remembered that it was late afternoon when the blast occurred, and so perhaps it was dusk, after all. At Yousef’s feet, in all directions, were the charred remains of human beings. The air was rotten with the smell of burnt corpses and gasoline. Yousef had to fight the urge to vomit, adding to his woes!
He continued to follow the road, knowing that by staying on the road he had the best chance of finding a new vehicle. As he limped along, the pain was so intense at times he thought perhaps he had died, and this was Hell. Random thoughts of never knowing relief from the pain spurred him on. Well, that, and the fact that he had noticed he was leaving a trail of blood as he hobbled along. He felt weaker with each step, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the blood loss would force him to stop. If he did not find medical help soon, he would be joining poor Aijaz in Heaven.
After what he guessed was approximately two kilometers, Yousef began to see charred and twisted chunks of metal that were easily identified as either a car or a truck. He could also see more dead bodies here as the flames had not burned them all to ashes. He also started to see survivors—many of whom were walking around in a daze, unsure what had happened. Those unable to walk, lay on the ground—some writhing in pain, waiting for help to arrive. Others just stood staring into the smoky distance, clearly in shock. Most had suffered minor burns and minor cuts and bruises. A few had what appeared to be broken arms or legs. Fewer still suffered from what appeared to be internal injuries or major traumas like head wounds or puncture wounds as Yousef did. One man held his hand over his left eye as blood trickled between his fingers. This brought yet another smile to Yousef’s face, which he quickly hid by rubbing his hand across his mouth.
A few minutes later, Yousef started seeing trees still standing. Of course, some were burned on one side and a few had objects embedded in them, but they were still standing, and a few even had some leaves left on their limbs.
Several minutes after first encountering trees, Yousef came to an overpass where a road ran under the Autobahn. He searched for the road signs that should have been there, but they had been either blown down or had the paint burned off them. He was unable to confirm he was headed in the right direction. Yousef started chuckling. After everything he had been through today, now he was lost! He had no idea where he was or how far he had traveled before the blast occurred.
He remembered having reached Neuland, but he didn’t recall having made it to Horst. With a blast that powerful, he could have been tossed a few feet, a few hundred yards or a few kilometers? He had no idea, so he continued shuffling down the road, not knowing where he was or what to expect, knowing only he had to escape.
Despite having traveled several kilometers, Yousef was surprised that he was still struggling to breathe—the air was still choked with smoke. Every breath he took stung his lungs as the air was thick with the fumes from burning gasoline, oil and who knew what else. Each step sent waves of pain through his body, yet he continued to walk away from the raging inferno consuming Hamburg.
A few hundred meters farther down the road, Yousef found dozens of cars that had all been rammed together, like a crazy demolition derby. Dozens of people were trapped in the wreckage, many with serious injuries, many calling out for help. It was at this point, just as night closed in, the first emergency responders began showing up to render what aid they could to the injured and dying.
Yousef walked up to an ambulance that had been left unattended with all of its lights on and began looking for bandages he could put on his wounds and burns, since all of the emergency responders were busy helping others. With one hand, he was struggling to place a bandage on his head wound when a young woman EMT suddenly stepped up and said, “Here, let me help. You poor thing! How far have you walked? My name is Natalie. What’s yours?”
“I don’t know! I was just driving along, and suddenly I was upside down and my car was on fire,” Yousef explained, twisting his face in confusion which was more real than an act, although he had no intention of telling this infidel woman his name.
Th
e young woman busied herself cleaning his hands and face and dressing them with an ointment and cotton gauze. Yousef then asked her to pull on his left arm in order to pop it back into the socket, which she did. The pain of the relocation left Yousef weak-kneed and on the brink of passing out before she caught him and sat him down on the step of the emergency van.
The young woman left Yousef alone to go and search for an orange juice for him to drink. Upon finding one, she handed it to him and began undoing his belt on his pants. Yousef jumped back and stopped the woman before he realized that she wasn’t attempting anything perverse—she was just trying to render first aid to his leg wound.
He looked around nervously and allowed her to help him remove his shirt and pants so she could tend his wounds. To have a woman touch him in this way and to have her remove his clothing was surely against his religion, but there were no male responders anywhere in sight. Yousef didn’t want to wait any longer to be treated, so he said a silent prayer for forgiveness and allowed her to help him.
Reprisal!- The Eagle's Sorrow Page 21
