Eye Of The Storm - DK3 (71 page)

Andy threw himself backwards to avoid the flying glass, then felt himself picked up and slammed against the frame as the air pressure sucked the heated air out of the building, bringing a hot, roaring explosion down the hall and heading right for them.

“GET DOWN!” KERRY yelled, pulling herself and Cecilia painfully to the floor as a superheated rush of fire and air exploded over her head and out the window, its crashing roar slamming against them like a physical force. Then the flames licked at the ceiling. She got to her feet and bolted forward regardless of the falling chunks of burning material.

Three people had been caught in it. She tried not to look at them and panic as she dove over a smoldering chair in the smoky darkness and was caught up abruptly by a pair of hands. “Let me…” Then she realized it was Dar.

“C’mon!” Dar yelled. “Everyone get over to the window!”

The heat was increasing quickly and now it was anything but silent as the chaos outside filtered in. The children screamed and the survivors scrambled over to the opening, clinging to the frame as smoke poured out of it.

“You almost got us killed!” Roger Stuart raged.

Dar ignored him as she peered back into the smoke, shading her eyes. Outside, the firemen had spotted them and were working to get the huge basket cranked up to their level, shouts of alarm and encourage-ment echoing up to them. Andrew pushed the last of the glass out of the way, one hand protectively curled around his wife, and Kerry helped a young woman over the fallen furniture.

The two wheelchairs. Dar grabbed Stuart by the arm. “Give me a hand with those kids.” She pointed, realizing only then she could have made a better choice of assistants.

Well. No time.
Stuart stared at her, half his face lit in fire, half in shadows, and for a long moment Dar thought he was going to refuse. Then he wrenched his arm free and shoved her away from him.

“Go there,” he ordered Cynthia, pushing his way past a fallen book-case and towards the frightened children, who were unable to maneuver their chairs through the debris. It was very hot as they got to them, and Dar felt like she was breathing the fire itself as she touched the chair, then jerked her hands back at the heat. “Hang on.” She unbuckled the petrified little boy and picked him up in her arms, ducking as a burning part of the ceiling fell, and almost stumbled as the flaming chunks hit her shoulder.

She shook them off and plowed forward, the child shivering so vio-390
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lently his teeth chattered in her ear. “Take it easy. We’re gonna be fine,”

she told him, as small hands clutched desperately at her. The fire bucket was just reaching their level when she staggered to the edge of the window and the two firemen inside yelled orders almost impossible to hear over the roar of the fire and the noise of the crowd outside.

One had a hose, and he yelled something, then he opened a valve, and a jet of water exploded past them, hitting the fire behind them and making it hiss in protest. Someone screamed next to Dar and she realized it was Kerry’s mother. She looked back, but nothing was visible through the smoke, then she searched the survivors huddled nearby and didn’t see the senator among them. “Shit.” She started to put the child down, intent on going back when her mother caught her arm. “Can you watch him for a minute?”

“Where are you going?” Ceci asked.

“See if I can…” Dar watched a ball of black smoke billow forward, stopping her speech.

Then a coughing, soot covered form stumbled out of the darkness, soaked from the hose’s spray but carrying the other crippled child.

Dar felt Kerry lean against her, and she glanced towards her partner, whose soot covered face was almost unrecognizable in its weary tension.

Her eyes, with an indescribable expression in them, were on her father, as the man came up to them, staggering under his load as a gust of wind from the circling helicopters washed in.

A spotlight hit them from above, and Dar shaded her eyes, blinking back spots as the firemen came closer to the building. They threw ropes over and Andrew caught one, tugged it back and tied it off around the steel window frame. “We got kids here!” he yelled. “We’ll hand ’em over to you.”

“Tie that to yourself!” the fireman hollered. “Don’t want you falling out the window while we’re doing this.”

Andrew nodded, hastily fastening the heavy rope around his waist and tying it with an efficient knot. “All right. C’mere, squirt.” He held out a hand to the nearest of the children and caught the boy around the waist and hoisted him out over the open space between the edge of the window and the bucket. The fireman grabbed him and lifted him in, then handed him to another fireman who had climbed up the long ladder zig zagging behind them.

The crowd clustered closer, nervously edging away from the fire at their backs, momentarily dampened by the fireman’s efforts. They started to push and Dar braced her legs to keep her balance. “Stay back. Let’s get the kids out first.”

“She’s right,” Roger Stuart yelled. “Pushing won’t help. Stay where you are.”

An explosion sent the floor shuddering under their feet and people screamed, trying to keep their balance. One man panicked and jumped for the basket, his feet slipping on the wet floor and making him miss his hold, leaving him hanging from one arm. Andrew leaned out, grabbed
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the back of his pants, and yanked him up with a single, powerful heave into the basket head first.

The fireman pulled him in, then looked over. “Better hurry up. We can’t hold this.”

Two more people pushed to the front, clawing blindly at Andrew’s arm. “Get back.” The ex-SEAL pushed them gently. “C’mon now. Let the kids out. Dar, gimme that little boy.”

“I’ve got him.” Dar had tied the end of the second rope around her and now she leaned out and handed the child carefully to the fireman hanging on the front of the basket. “Careful. He can’t walk.”

“You be careful, ma’am,” the fireman warned, as he passed the child back.

Kerry got between the panicked survivors and Andrew. “Okay. Just take it easy. We’re all going to get out of here,” she yelled to be heard over the noise. “There aren’t that many of us…and look, the fire’s not getting any closer for now.” She pointed with her good hand. “Don’t start rushing the window. You’ll fall out and then you’ll really get hurt.”

They passed three more children out, then Roger edged forward, ignoring Andrew’s offered hands and getting to the very edge of the opening before handing out the little girl he was carrying. “Watch the braces,” he warned the fireman, then stepped back. “All right, women next.”

Two women made it out, then a rumble filled the building and part of the ceiling collapsed behind them, sending a wash of heat out the window. The remaining glass crackled and popped, and Dar shielded her face and turned her back to it. “We’d better hurry.”

Kerry’s mother went next, with Andrew taking one arm and her husband taking the other. “You next, Cec.” Andrew turned, to see a stubborn look crossing his wife’s face. “Now, c’mon.” He grabbed her bodily, lifted her, and passed her slight weight to the fireman over her half spoken protests. “Careful with that one. She bites.”

The fireman let a brief grin cross his tired face. “Yes, sir.”

“You be careful, damn it!” Ceci yelled back, then her voice dropped.

“Please?” Their eyes locked and Andrew smiled at her, giving her a reassuring wink that didn’t seem to work.

Kerry started to untie the rope around Dar. “Guess we’re next.”

“Go on.” Dar gently removed her hands and nudged her towards the opening. “I’ll be right there.”

Andrew held a hand out and she took it, pausing to glance at her father as she stepped into the glare and backwash of the endlessly hover-ing helicopters. The fireman reached out just as a gust of wind knocked her off balance and she wavered, then felt a steadying hand on her back as the rescuers took a secure hold on her and lifted her over the gap. Once in the bucket she turned immediately and met three sets of eyes watching her.

The hand, she realized, had been her father’s.

She felt a guiding touch and started carefully down the ladder, keep-392
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ing her eyes always on that dark, smoke filled gap.

“You next.” Dar exhaled, motioning to the senator, the last one left besides Andy and herself. She thought he was going to argue with her for a second, then he merely stepped forward and accepted the fireman’s arm clasp as they sprayed again into the opening. Smoke billowed out contin-uously and now, at last, Dar moved towards the window.

She and her father exchanged glances. “G’wan,” Andrew said quietly.

Dar quirked her eyebrow. “You first.”

Andrew’s eyebrows lifted. “Paladar, get yer butt into that bucket before I whup it.”

Dar shook her head. “Not this time. You’re about to keel over. So move it.” She folded her arms and met his eyes with an inflexibly stubborn look. “C’mon, c’mon. We don’t have all day.”

Andrew untied his rope and chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to the opening and paused, then jumped across on his own, disregarding the fireman’s helping hand. Then he turned and took hold of Dar’s arm as she crossed, out of the smoke and heat at last.

“Okay. Pull her back!” The fireman spoke into a walkie talkie. “Let’s get the hell—oh, shit!”

The low rumble warned them. “Get down! Get down!” The fireman slammed them both into the bottom of the bucket and threw himself over them as a ball of superheated air and flame came roiling out of the hole in the glass, melting it and sending shards of concrete flying towards them.

The bucket reeled wildly, then swung away from the building, sway-ing as the engineers fought to keep it upright. The hapless survivors clung to the ladder desperately, until it finally steadied.

“Son of a bitch.” The fireman exhaled, hauling himself off the two rescuees in the bottom of the bucket. “Oh. Sorry, ma’am.”

Dar slowly straightened and gazed over the lip of the bucket to where the fire now shot out of the wall, raging up the side of the half collapsed building. Then she looked at her father, who gazed thoughtfully back. “I’ve heard people say being on the edge is a big rush.”

“Mmm.” Andrew rocked his head.

“They’re full of shit.” Dar sat down in the bottom of the bucket, where she could see nothing but plastic and the clouds overhead.

Andy patted her knee comfortingly, then leaned an arm on the bucket edge. “We need to get climbing?”

“Hell no.” The firefighter sat wearily on the edge of the contraption.

“We get a ride down. It’ll just take a few minutes.” He glanced at them.

“You two deserve it. You saved those people’s asses. We were about to back off and let the building blow out.” He held a hand out. “Josh Beard.”

Andy took it. “Andy Roberts. And this little sprout’s my daughter Dar.”

Josh looked quizzically at the six foot plus woman sprawled at his feet and grinned. “You musta used a decent fertilizer.”

It struck Dar as funny and she laughed softly, too exhausted to oth-Eye of the Storm 393

erwise move.

“Hey. Was that really Senator Stuart and his wife?”

“Yeap.” Andrew nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, they’re turning the place upside down looking for him. You kidding? When they pulled his kid out and she said he was still—”

Dar grabbed his leg in a vise grip. “What? Are you saying his daughter Angela got out?”

“Ouch.” He winced. “Yeah. About to pop. She was on the west side of the building and they got her out first thing.” He took off his helmet and scrubbed his hand through short, curly hair. “Probably a momma by now.”

Dar felt a wave of relief flow through her and she let her head drop back against the plastic. “Thank God.” Then she pulled herself to her feet and peered over the basket edge, towards the slowly approaching ground.

KERRY FOUND HERSELF on the ground and for a long moment, she simply stood there, letting the chaos around her pass her by as she absorbed the steadiness of the earth under her feet and took in breaths of air untainted with smoke and dust. Then she turned and tilted her head back, reassuring herself of the slow progress of the bucket on its way down before she turned and paid attention to the paramedic who was talking to her. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”

“I said, would you come over here, ma’am, and let us take a look at you?” the woman repeated, taking her elbow.

Ceci appeared at her side. “She had a dislocated shoulder,” she told the paramedic, as Kerry obediently allowed the paramedic to lead her over to what appeared to be a triage area, where she sat down on a bench.

“Doesn’t look dislocated.” The woman gently removed the dirty singed sling Kerry still wore. “Someone put it back in for you?”

Kerry nodded. “Yes.” She took a breath. “It really hurt.”

“I bet it did.” She carefully manipulated Kerry’s arm. “How’s it feel now?”

“Sore.” She sighed. “But then, just about everything’s sore. It’s kind of hard to judge.” She winced as the medic touched her forearm. “I think I got burned there.”

“Mmm. Yes, you did.” The medic looked around. “How about you lie down on that gurney over there and let me get someone to take a look at this, okay?” She took Kerry by the arm, led her over, and then helped her settle down on the rolling cot, pulling the sheet up to her waist and positioning her arm carefully on her stomach. “You just stay right there.”

“Okay.” Kerry let out a breath, glad to be still. She turned her head towards Ceci and blinked. “Are they down yet?”

The gray eyes lifted then returned. “Almost.” Ceci seated herself on the grass next to the gurney and leaned against a stone disposal. “I see the press has found your father.”

Kerry turned her head that way and watched. “He did okay up there.” Her voice took on a note of tired wonder.

“He proved his paternity,” Ceci remarked dryly.

Kerry gave her a puzzled look.

“That was a compliment.”

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“Oh.” She rubbed her face, blinking her stinging eyes, then looked up as a man in green surgical scrubs knelt next to her. “Hello.”