Something—the wall?—landed on her back, knocking her facedown onto the crushed remnants of someone’s desk. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around her head and prayed for the chance to make things right for her family.
The firehouse bells blared in his ears as Jamie crawled out from under the table and offered his hand to Dani. The usually spotless kitchen was a mess, but cleanup would have to wait. An announcement came over the speakers: “Structural collapse rescue, Ladder 27, Rescue 21, and Aid Unit 44 needed at 3rd and James. Multiple victims.”
He scooped up the box of Coco’s treats he’d almost crushed with his boot and set it on the table. “Better bring these. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”
Dani nodded, her face pale, as she tried to soothe the trembling dog. Rising, she took Coco by the collar with one hand and the box with the other. “Let’s go.”
Racing through the lounge, they grabbed their radios from the battery charging station and made their way to the south apparatus room. Jamie pulled up short when he spotted Hollywood lounging against Ladder 27 in his turnout gear. Jamie could almost see the adrenaline coursing through the man’s veins. “Glad you made it. We could use an extra pair of hands.”
“I guess you’re still in charge?”
He clapped Hollywood on the back. “Yep. I’m bumping you down to driver, Lieutenant.” He turned to address the other team members. “Gabe, you’re driving Rescue 21.”
Once everyone had their turnout gear on, they jumped into their vehicles. Jamie sat in the passenger seat of Ladder 27 while Hollywood got behind the wheel. Dani and Coco took their places in the back compartment. As Hollywood turned on the siren and pulled onto 4th Avenue heading northwest, Jamie twisted around and looked at his younger brother, Drew, behind them in Rescue 21. Christ, he wished the kid weren’t here. It would be so much easier to focus if he knew Drew were safe at home. As if reading his thoughts, Drew waved, face grim. Since he was in Battalion 5’s Platoon B, they didn’t usually work the same shifts. Wasn’t it a kick in the ass that they were during the worst disaster to hit Seattle since the Nisqually earthquake? Fate was a bitch.
Jamie forced himself to focus. Drew was a member of the technical rescue team because he was qualified to be, more than qualified actually. He would be okay. Facing forward, Jamie got his first look at the chaos that had overtaken his city. Cars parked along the streets were buried beneath piles of bricks and chunks of cement. Broken glass covered the sidewalks, which hadn’t fared much better.
Ahead, an oil tanker lay on its side, blocking the width of the road. Worse, smoke rose from the engine and flames licked around the edges of the hood. Hollywood slammed the brakes. “Shit! If that thing blows, it’ll take down the neighborhood.”
The driver had climbed out and stood in the entrance to a restaurant, watching his truck burn. “We get stuck in that mess, we won’t be helping anyone tonight,” Jamie said, punching the talk button on the Motorola digital radio attached to his turnout coat, and reported the incident.
“Engine 10 is already en route. ETA two minutes,” the dispatcher answered.
“Can you get us around it?” Jamie asked Hollywood as he watched the flames reaching higher. From what he could see, there wasn’t enough open space between the parked cars and the tanker for them to pass.
His expression tight, Hollywood nodded. “Shut the windows.”
Metal screeched against metal as Ladder 27 pushed through the narrow opening, sending a shudder through Jamie’s body. Hollywood cursed as the driver’s side mirror caught on the downed truck’s bumper and ripped off. Jamie twisted in his seat to watch the progression of his team. The acrid scent of burning paint filled the cabin as the flames grew.
Finally, they made it past the tanker. Rescue 21 and Aid 44 easily drove through the space Hollywood had made for them. When he once again looked down the road, Engine 10 was weaving through the traffic toward them.
Jamie relaxed. His team could concentrate on getting to their destination. And if anyone could get them there in record time, it was Hollywood. Besides being a valuable member of the technical rescue team, the guy had been the best driver in the SFD before becoming lieutenant of Battalion 5’s Platoon D.
As he checked the Computer Aided Dispatch View reports on the MDC, the Mobile Data Computer, Jamie’s heart almost stopped. How could he not have realized sooner?
Hollywood shot him a look through narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re going to 3rd and James,” he said, sounding like he’d inhaled a mouthful of dirt.
“That’s the King County Courthouse….” Hollywood’s voice trailed off as he glanced at Jamie. “Oh fuck.”
Oh fuck was right. Rickie couldn’t possibly still be at work, could she? No. She and Chloe were at home. Probably scared shitless, but safe. Having left his bunker jacket undone, he fished his cell phone from his shirt pocket and speed-dialed the house. Four rings later, the answering machine picked up. Swearing profusely, he left a message and hung up. Immediately he dialed Rickie’s cell phone. No fast busy this time. The phone rang and he held his breath. Come on, Rickie. Pick up.
The ringing stopped, but he didn’t hear anyone answer.
“Rickie!” he shouted into the phone. When he heard no response, he checked his phone’s display. Dammit. The call had died. He tried again and got a fast busy. What the hell did that mean? Had Rickie answered or had it been something weird with the network? She had to be okay. They had to be okay. Rickie and Chloe were his whole world.
His radio beeped, startling him. He pressed the talk button. “Caldwell.”
“Everything okay, Jamie?” Drew asked, his voice gruff.
His throat tightened at the concern in his brother’s tone. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that they were on the same team tonight after all. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, kid. I can’t reach Rickie.”
“It’s pretty late. She’s probably at home. Did you try there?’
“Yeah. Voicemail.”
There was a brief silence and then, mercy of mercies, Drew signed off. Cold fear had already taken root in Jamie’s gut, and he didn’t need any more of his brother’s well-intentioned questions to help it along.
At the corner of 4th and Holgate, the truck came to a complete standstill. Jamie’s gaze flew to Hollywood. The intersection was a massive knot, as cars from all directions tried to drive around the multi-vehicle pileup at its center. It would take hours to clear everyone out of the intersection. Wasn’t his problem, but getting around it was. “We don’t have time for this.”
“I know, man,” Hollywood said. His expression one of intense concentration, he took a sharp left onto Holgate, swerving around the maze of stopped cars. He rode the truck up onto the sidewalk and blew the horn repeatedly.
Gripping the dash, Jamie closed his eyes and prayed. Prayed for Rickie and Chloe. And prayed that his team made it to the courthouse in one piece.
The crackle of static from his radio filled the cabin before he heard the dispatcher’s voice. “Ladder 27.”
He pressed the talk button. “Caldwell here.”
“A security guard from the courthouse is on the line. I’m patching him through.”
A hole burning in his gut, Jamie grabbed the two-way and held it up to his ear. “Roger.”
“Hello?” A man’s shaky voice came over the radio. “This is John Simmons, head of security at the King County Courthouse. We’ve got a situation here. How long before you guys arrive?”
Jamie tried to reassure the man. “We’re only a few blocks away. Tell me what you’ve got.”
He heard Simmons blow out a breath. “Those damn faulty support columns are buckling. The ceiling on the fourth floor has already caved.”
Rickie’s floor. His hand crushing the two-way, Jamie wheezed out, “Have you evacuated?”
“Everyone’s out except for the security staff and five others.”
“Tell me about the five.”
“Mr. Perez
is trapped in the elevator on the seventh floor outside Interpreter Services. The door to Judge Tennison’s office on the third floor west is stuck. Also on the third floor, Mrs. Anders is caught behind some live wires. We’re trying to cut the power so we can get her out.”
When the man stopped talking, Jamie prodded him. “What about the other two?”
“Woman and child. When the ceiling collapsed, the woman was buried.”
His stomach clenched as his unease grew. No. It couldn’t be. “And the child?”
“She called for her mother before the collapse. Since then, nothing.”
He didn’t want to hear it, but he had to know. Clearing his throat, he forced a calm, professional tone into his voice. Even though he was dying inside. “What’s the woman’s name?”
“Caldwell. Said her husband was on the Technical Rescue Team. Said to call him. Can you contact him?”
The words hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. White stars filled his vision and he had to take several deep breaths to regain his equilibrium. “You just did, man,” he choked out.
“Mr. Caldwell? Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“What floor is my wife on? What’s on her? Is she conscious?” And, oh Christ, where was his daughter? Was Chloe even still alive?
“Fourth floor, center. Down the hall from her office.”
Dani’s small hand squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find them, Jamie,” she said gently.
“Damn straight.” His gaze slid to Hollywood. “Can you get us there PDQ? Or do I have to get out and hotfoot it?”
“Hang tight!” Hollywood shouted as he pulled a sharp right on to South King Street, gunning past CenturyLink Field. “At least the Sounders aren’t playing tonight,” he muttered.
The situation would have been pretty near catastrophic with an additional sixty thousand people milling about.
His mind shredded, Jamie stared numbly at the narrow traffic-snarled roads of downtown Seattle. He and his crew were Rickie and Chloe’s best chance of surviving this nightmare. They just had to get there before the entire building collapsed, or it was game over.
CHAPTER 3
When Ladder 27 was still a half-block from the courthouse, going north on a south-running one-way, Jamie leaned over and slammed his palm firmly against the horn as Hollywood attempted to weave through the clogged street. People scattered and more than one bird was flipped his way. Tough shit. They were alive, whereas his little girl—
Nope. Not going there. Think positive, that’s what he had to do. His platoon was the best, and he had to believe that they’d get Rickie and Chloe out safely. Anything else was self-defeating.
But despite Hollywood’s best efforts, they were barely moving. Adrenaline spiked in his system and Jamie felt as though he were going to burst out of his skin. Instead, he shoved open the door and jumped out of the truck. Multiple what-the-fuck shouts from his team rang out. Yeah, it was stupid. With all the weight and awkwardness of the turnout gear, he could have twisted an ankle, but shit. His skin was crawling with the need for action, the need to do something, no matter how boneheaded.
Sucking in a breath to get himself under control before facing perhaps the worst situation of his life, he beat feet up the road, past City Hall Park to the 3rd Avenue entrance to the courthouse. As Jamie pushed through the rotating door, panting and sweating, a middle-aged bald man who seemed vaguely familiar came up to him. His uniform indicated he was one of the security guards. “Simmons?” Jamie asked.
The man nodded. “You Caldwell?”
Jamie inclined his head. “Any change since we spoke?”
Simmons motioned to the lobby’s darkened overhead lights. “We managed to cut the power and get Mrs. Anders out of the building.”
At least that was something. “Anything else I should know about? Leaks? Water? Gas?”
“None that we’re aware of.”
Not too reassuring given how long it had taken them to find the power main. He swallowed before voicing his next question. “My wife? My daughter?”
Simmons’ eyes fell to the floor and a great pressure around Jamie’s chest forced him to push his shoulders back to inhale. Damn. He hadn’t expected anything different, but he had hoped. “You got guys to take my team to the vics?” His stomach revolted at the word he’d never thought he’d use to refer to his wife and daughter.
Nodding, the old guard said, “Ten plus me.”
The ladder truck and Rescue 21 pulled up to the curb with Aid 44 right behind them. As the team assembled, Jamie began giving orders. “Drew, you and Gabe, take the disabled elevator on the seventh floor. Hollywood, take the care of the vic on the second floor. Evan and Colin, grab some of the security team and make sure all the floors are clear. Dani, you and Coco are with me on the fourth floor.”
“Hold up a minute.” Hollywood stepped close to Jamie and said in a low voice, “You sure you should be leading this?”
Suppressing the urge to ignore his best friend, he shifted his weight back on his heels to keep his feet still. Hollywood wasn’t saying anything the captain wouldn’t have said if he weren’t tied up with the chaotic aftermath of the quake. “I can handle this.”
“You know the protocol. You’re too close.”
Jamie crossed his arms and glared at his soon to be ex-friend. “Fuck protocol.”
Hollywood held up his hands. “Fine. But if you change your mind…”
“I won’t.”
Jamie turned and gave the signal to his team. They secured SCBAs on their backs and hooked faceplates on their heads, but didn’t close them. Then they grabbed ropes, pulleys, saws, and anything else they might need based on Simmons’ description of the various situations. With Jamie in the lead, they all tromped through the lobby, their boots slapping the floor tiles, and met up with the security team.
“This way, sir,” Simmons said, leading the way to the central stairwell. To stay in shape, Jamie and the team often trained in full gear, so going up four flights would be no problem for him and Dani.
But in the dim glow of the emergency lighting, Simmons’ flushed face, slick with sweat, told a different story. Shit. Now was so not the time for the old man to rupture an artery or pop a valve. “Everything okay, Simmons?” he asked. “We can go the rest of the way on our own.”
Simmons shook his head, and turning the corner, began plodding up the final set of stairs. “It’ll be faster if I show you where Mrs. Caldwell is.”
With Coco along, Jamie didn’t need anyone’s help to find his wife, but he understood and even respected the old guy’s need to be useful. To a point.
Stepping out of the stairwell onto the fourth floor, Jamie quickly oriented himself. They’d come out on the opposite side from where the elevators were located, closer to the central part of the building than to Rickie’s office on the eastern side.
“Were the offices damaged?” he asked the guard.
“Some, but nothing like this area.”
Jamie had thought as much. Why hadn’t Rickie and Chloe been in her office? “How much farther?”
“It’s a little hard to see, but I believe she was”—Simmons moved a few yards ahead and crouched, looking under a plank—“here….” He let the sentence hang, and a bewildered look came over his face.
Worry punched Jamie in the gut. But the old man’s confusion wasn’t unusual when everything was reduced to a pile of rubble, all visual reference points gone. It did mean they had to spend precious minutes locating Rickie.
Jamie shouted her name, then waited for a response before calling Chloe’s. Nothing. Dani removed Coco’s leash and let her loose. As the dog maneuvered almost daintily around the dangerous debris, she sniffed and yipped. And Jamie’s speeding heart shifted down a gear. He’d seen Dani and Coco in action many times. Their track record was impeccable.
When Coco’s barks intensified, Dani shouted, “She’s on to something.”
Jamie rushed to them, careful not to fall or, worse, impale himself on the minefield o
f broken metal, wood, and glass. He knelt next to Coco while Dani ruffled the dog’s fur and murmured, “Good girl.”
Instead of seeing Rickie or Chloe, he saw a filing cabinet and a fallen wall behind it. Coco wasn’t a cadaver dog, so if she’d stopped here, it was because she smelled someone. Someone alive.
“Rickie, Chloe!” he called.
When there was no response, he forced himself to put his training into practice and quickly assessed whether the cabinet was supporting the fallen wall. If so, moving it would bring the whole mess down on his wife or daughter—whoever was trapped underneath. After confirming that it was safe to move the cabinet, he lifted it away from the wall very carefully so as not to further destabilize the mound of rubble.
Dani shined her flashlight into the darkness of the void. As Rickie turned her beautiful face toward him, blinking at the light, his heart slammed against his chest like a crazed fly against a bright bulb. Her skin was pale and she had contusions on her face and arms. The rest he’d have to examine once they got her out. The important thing was that they’d found her—alive, but quite clearly trapped.
Lying on her stomach with the wall on her back, she inched a hand out to him. “Jamie,” she whispered. “I knew you’d come.” A tear slid down her cheek.
Love for Rickie welled in his heart until he thought he’d drown in it. He gripped her fingers and squeezed gently. “Always,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Chloe?”
Christ. The hope in her voice pierced his heart. He ran his thumb along her wrist. “We’ll find her. Stay still while I get you out of here.” With that, he turned to Dani and nodded. She rose and set off with Coco to continue the search.
He laid his equipment and SCBA on the ground before searching the debris for materials to build a crib under the wall. All he needed was to clear a few inches so he could pull Rickie out. He’d lift the wall, angling it along the length of her body.
Aftershocks (Six-Alarm Sexy) Page 3
