“Why Shampoo,” asked Heather.
“Because on her very first training exercise instead of pinpointing the location of a trapped individual she pinpointed the location of an empty shampoo bottle. Damn dog had us digging for what we thought was a person for over an hour. Sam has been under UNIRO care through every class before yours and through each one we have never been able to find her a squadron to fit in to. She’s a misfit, kinda like you Emerson; that’s why she now belongs to your squadron. Good luck,” laughed Hansen.
William wiped his face of slobber. He spit some out of his mouth. He turned around and saw Amanda still hugging the animal. They already seemed to be best friends. Without a doubt he knew his course of action with Sam.
“Miller,” smiled William, “she’s yours.”
“Seriously Captain?” glimmered Amanda.
“Make her one of us, okay.”
“Yes, sir!” Amanda avowed.
“Sure beats a drone or something, eh?” muttered Vinny.
“I disagree,” said Rescue Officer Dwayne J. Pate, otherwise known as DJ, the teams drone specialist. “Drones don’t bite. I’ve never been an animal lover. You see this scar?”
DJ pointed to a small scar just above his right eye.
“Yeah,” said Vinny.
“Sheep dog. Bit me when I was ten.”
Vinny shook his head. He unclipped his helmet swiftly and then parted his hair, revealing a scar of his own.
“You see this?” asked Vinny.
“Yeah,” said DJ.
“Drone. Bit me with its rotor blade when I was twenty-four. Damn thing fell right out of the sky.”
“Hey,” shouted Hansen. “Will you two stop comparing dick sizes and get in the goddamn truck. We got some fake stuff to save. Let’s go. Emerson, tell your men to shut up.”
“Yes, sir,” cried William. “You heard him. Everyone mount up and get loaded. Let’s do this.”
And with that everyone piled into the truck, Shampoo and all. Up front, the cab could seat six but only three supervising officers, including Major Hansen, sat there while William and his team caught a ride in the truck bed. Handrails that extended out from the bed helped everyone get on board. Fold-out seats lining the gray bed’s hard plastic walls made for an uncomfortable ride as the truck started to move toward the town, their partner squadron in another truck behind them with the other two supervisors driving.
In a subdued rev of their hydrogen fuel cells the two trucks made their way through the gravel road system of the training center, moving with a finesse that was surprising given the size of them. William observed each wheel could turn independently of one another, allowing the trucks to turn on a dime.
Sitting at the front of the bed directly behind the cab, William saw his team was clutching their gear like they were going to war; most were looking at the town as the trucks rounded the final turn onto its main street. A building was on fire a few blocks in. Most of it had collapsed. Only the first floor was intact; its two upper floors pancaked. Police cars with working warning lights blocked their path from going any further. Actors in police uniforms came up to the trucks and banged on the doors asking for assistance. Like in the real world there would be no explanation, no set up to what they would walk into, just unpredictable calamity.
Hansen got out of the truck along with his fellow supervisors. Two were majors like himself and the other two were colonels, all of them standing back on the streets sidewalk and watching, taking notes on glass tablets. William took charge knowing there would be no direction until the scenario was over.
“Let’s go, people, out! Everyone out! Miller keep track of time, and Shampoo. Start a thirty minute countdown starting now.”
“Yes, Captain!”
There was no tailgate so everyone just threw their gear out and jumped to the pavement in two single file lines. Last out, William directed his team forward to meet the waiting police officers. Firefighting Squadron 2 followed. The physically fit tall brunette, Captain Abby Veeder, was leading them. Captain Veeder and her squadron were dressed in blue firefighting suits covered in reflecting patches, head encasing white helmets, and white oxygen tank holding chest and back plates like William’s teams. The police officer they met had a Southern accent and acted very well. He was sweating and had makeup to make him look injured.
“Are you them UNIRO guys they called?” he asked.
William and Abby both tried to speak at the same time but William let her speak first.
“Yes, sir, we are. We were told you were in need of assistance.”
“Yeah,” he said. “The earthquake was a rattler. It blew our water mains and all our emergency services are destroyed. Government says a federal team won't be out ‘til tonight and we got fires raging just down the street at the corner there. We’ve blocked off the area but that's bout all we can do. The fire is too hot. Pretty sure there are people trapped as well somewhere in the upper floors but they are as flat as paper now.”
William let the police officer continue to speak to his fellow captain while he looked at the fire. His team was not equipped to put it out but Abby’s team was and that was where their cooperation would come in. That was the test.
Heat could be felt from where they were all standing. William’s heads-up computer display, which he had now flipped forward over his left eye, showed the buildings distance being one hundred feet away. Winds were light so the smoke was going almost straight up. Temperatures were varying between 790 and 900 degrees Fahrenheit inside the structure.
“Captain Emerson,” Abby called over. She and William convened while their two teams stood back, waiting. “Captain I suggest my team go in first and put the fire out, then your team can search the building. The police say there were thirteen people in there when the earthquake hit.”
“Agreed. But the water mains are gone and there are no lakes or rivers around to take from and you don't have a supply with you.” The scenario was designed to see what the teams would do with nothing but the gear on their backs. Resourcefulness was key.
“Yes, we do, we just need to get clever,” Abby said.
And with that she turned to both of their teams and told them of what was going to happen. Done with her plan of action she looked at William and put her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Mamedov.”
William appreciated the sympathy but now was not the best time. “Thank you, Captain, but we can mourn later. This fire has to get out. You know what to do, go.”
Captain Veeder nodded. Her team went forward upon her order, running down the street.
“Time, Miller?” asked William.
“Twenty-six minutes to go, sir.”
“Good. Okay, Niccolo, you stay here with the policeman and find out everything you can. Write it down on your tablet and send the info to all of us as you get it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant Jong, you take Lawal, Fortin, Jinping, and Mckay. Assess the building's structural damage and surrounding hazards. Find out the best ports of entry. I want a 360 degree sweep around the entire building.”
“Yes, s-sir!”
“Sergeant Horbert, you take Miller, Phillips, and Mambiri. Assess our supplies. See what we have and what we can use. Phillips you get ready with your medical kit for any injuries.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Miller get Shampoo ready.”
“You got it, sir.”
“Sergeant Macom, you take Mamedov and get communications up with home base. Tell them what is happening on the ground and what we are about to do. Find the best place you can to get a connection out. Get our satellite internet up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rescue Officer Pate,”
DJ’s eyes exploded with excitement hearing his name. “Yes, Captain?”
“Get our bird in the air.”
“Yes, sir!”
William clapped his hands, “Okay people this is it. I will keep our two teams working together and jo
in the first people in once the fire is out but until it is keep your distance. Do not approach until either me or Captain Veeder say so. I want a fifty foot perimeter established for everyone.”
He was so excited and nervous at the same time his stomach felt ill. Zeroing in on the exercise he forgot all about Samir and found what he was about to do, despite its intensity, a respite. “We have the skills and the training. Let's go save some lives. Let's move!”
All of them broke into a full sprint, kicking debris and dirt as they did, scattering as they neared the burning ball of propane. Rescue Officer DJ Pate was an Alabama-born flight instructor crazy about all things airborne. It was said he could spot and identify a make and model from two miles out and that he could fly before he knew how to run; the only thing that stopped him from the Air Force, and UNIROACTF, was his shoulder, which frequently and easily dislocates. Being the team's drone specialist he carried a foldable surveillance drone in his backpack. While running he took it out and unfurled its four rotor blades and threw it like a ball. Like a fish finding water, the drone sensed it was in the free air and came to life, taking a flight path up and around the buildings crushed roof. What it filmed was relayed to DJ’s glass tablet and anyone else's that requested it.
His drone flying, DJ called out over the radio, “Drone is circling Captain. Video should be available now.”
“Good, Pate. Get me a close up of the two upper floors and relay this footage to Veeder.”
“Copy.”
It was working. Seven minutes into the exercise William already knew the state of the structure and how he would enter it. His method of search would be a buddy system, seven teams of two people combing for survivors.
“Captain, this is Fortin,” radioed Gaspard.
“Yeah, I read you. Go ahead, Fortin.”
“Sir, I’ve learned that the building is a bank. When the earthquake struck, there were thirteen people inside. They may have ran to the vault for protection on the first floor of the building.”
“Good intel, Fortin. Then we make the vault our primary target and the upper floors our secondary. Alert the rest of the team what we’re looking for please.”
“Yes, sir.”
On an adjacent rooftop was a water tower. The firefighting squadron was pumping water from it through their hoses onto the fire with portable solar powered pumps to little effect. Heat signatures within the structure were climbing and smoke was so thick that nothing inside of it was visible. Time was running out. Communications with home base, albeit fake, told of imminent aftershocks. These would be simulated with shake tables under all of the town’s buildings.
“Miller, what's our time?” William asked again.
“Down to eighteen minutes left, sir.”
“Damnit.”
Something had to be sped up for them to make the deadline. William was not going to fail his first live scenario or else it would set him back years with Hansen and Hammond.
“Captain Veeder, do you copy?” he called.
She quickly replied over the radio from atop the adjacent rooftop where she was directing her team. “Go ahead, Emerson.”
“I don't think the fire is being contained and we are running out of time. Do you agree?”
“Yes!”
“My guys say the building is a bank and the people that were inside may be trapped in the vault, which is somewhere on the first floor. You’ve got to clear a path for us to that vault or you get the whole thing out!”
“We are trying our best but we are going to run out of water soon,” she said, frustrated. “We only have a swimming pool’s worth in that tank and we are more than halfway through.”
Hot jets of flames tried to climb out windows, which were breaking one by one as the fire grew hotter, as if the fire itself were its own victim trying to escape. Heat made William's face feel like it was next to a hot plate.
“We need the fire under control, Veeder, and this won't do it.”
“Well, we are just about out of water so what do you suppose we do, Emerson?”
“You're the firefighting experts!”
“I can't fight anything if I don't have punches to fight with.”
“Fifteen minutes, sir!” reminded Amanda.
“You hear that, Veeder?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m thinking.”
“Wait! Wait! I got it,” yelled William. “Mckay, get over to my position now. I’m at the eastern corner of the building.”
“Yes, sir, I am coming!” Vinny came running down the street in a few seconds, almost skating on the ground rumble as he did, like one of his adored hockey players. He ran so fast that he could not stop in time and ran into William. “What's up, sir?”
“Mckay,” William said, pushing Vinny off of him, “we are running out of water for the fire. You used to fight these things, right?”
“Yeah, all the time!”
“Would some kind of explosion put it out?”
“Oh, now you’re taking my language, Captain,” Vinny grinned. “It would if it was energetic enough. That fire is burning off of propane valves laced throughout the structure so if we introduced an explosion it would displace the burning propane. It would burn itself out in seconds because we would have removed the flames from their ignition source.”
“You hear that, Veeder?”
“Yeah, I did Emerson, but how are we going to make an explosion?”
“The tanks,” injected Mckay. “Your tanks, ma’am. We can blow them all at the same time by sliding them into the building and blowing them up. The force of the blast from fifteen pressurized pure oxygen tanks will push the fire off its fuel source. Our squadron has some clearing charges that could do the trick and rupture the tanks. The bank vault will be able to hold to. It will mostly be just a light show.”
“What if it doesn't work and the charges don’t blow the tanks?” asked Abby.
“Then we fail,” said William, truthfully. “Veeder, you said get clever so...”
“Thirteen minutes!”
“Fine,” said Abby. “We fail, your squadron owes mine though Emerson, got that?”
“Copy that,” smirked William. He winked at Vinny who was smiling with anticipation.
“Let's blow some stuff up!” shouted Vinny.
CHAPTER 43: Fighting Fire with Bigger Fire
Some coordination later and the tanks had been slid into the buildings burning lobby in front and the charges primed; its firing code entered via a glass tablet. Temperatures were now in excess of 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, melting the tanks’ plastic seals, releasing pressurized oxygen.
“We gotta go now, the tanks are leaking!” radioed Abby.
To ensure the charges would land where the teams wanted them to, they taped them to DJ’s surveillance drone.
“Do we need to destroy the drone? She is so pretty,” moped DJ.
“You’ll get a new one, Pate, don't worry, especially if this works,” comforted William.
“Yes, sir. Thanks, sir.”
Again they set the drone free and let it go to the building.
“Okay, Pate, let's get clear. Mckay, you come with us too,” ordered William.
William, Vinny, and DJ jogged across the street to a parked car and ducked for cover. Then William gave a warning call to everyone in the area.
“This is Captain Emerson to all UNIRO and local rescue personnel, please clear a 150 foot blast radius around the bank and take cover. Explosion imminent. I repeat, explosion imminent. Blast will occur on my mark after a five count.”
“I got the drone inside next to the tanks, sir. Temperatures are over 1,000 degrees! Y'all better go. It's now or never or else she's gonna melt!” DJ warned.
“Veeder, your team clear?” asked William one last time.
“Clear,” she radioed from across the street corner.
William took one last look around. It was clear. DJ’s tongue was slipping out of his mouth. His eyes blinked like camera shutters, readying to image everything. Vinny w
as antsy, trying to look over the car as high but as safely as he could.
“Mckay, get down,” ordered William.
“Sorry, sir. I like explosions. Comes with my ex-profession.”
“I would think otherwise but… Whatever makes you happy. Here we go.” Over the radio William began to count. “Fire in the hole in five, four, three, two, one, mark!”
“I’m sorry, baby!” said DJ, closing eyes. He pressed the digital detonator on his tablet. A tremendous ball of flames burst from the confines of the building within a second, making it halfway to their hiding spot before settling back. A gust of wind from the shockwave blew DJ’s unclipped helmet off his head. Small chunks of smoking dirt rained down on the three men. A hissing sound followed, then silence. William pulled DJ up by his jumpsuit’s collar and looked on at their handy work. The fire was out, blasted from its fuel source.
William was pleased. “Wow, Mckay, you weren't kidding.”
“I told you, sir, just a big light show. All bark, no bite. Just enough,” Vinny said happily while getting up himself.
DJ looked at his glass tablets static filled screen where the drones feed was, whimpering. “She was such a nice drone.”
“Jeez Pate, get a grip. They will just 3D print you up another one,” blustered Vinny.
A voice came over the radio. It was Veeder. “Hey, Emerson, nice job. Your squadron ever gets sick of ya, you can join mine.”
“Thanks, Veeder.”
“Where did you come up with that?” she asked.
“I saw it in a John Wayne movie once.”
Vinny laughed but DJ looked confused.
“Who is John Wayne?” DJ asked.
“Don't say that Pate, you make me feel old,” sighed William, running back to the building.
The fire out and with nine minutes left, William gathered his team at the front entrance of the building. He broke everyone up into pairs with a few of Captain Veeder's team members tagging along with handheld fire extinguishers to take care of any hot spots inside. William and Simba scoped out the lobby.
“Buddy Team 1 is proceeding into lobby now. Everyone your eyes and ears open. Check all voids and crevices. Watch out for any aftershocks,” William instructed. “Miller, get Shampoo sniffing on the upper floors. That’s where she will be most useful.”
The End of the Beginning Page 26
