USS SEAHAWK
Port of Norfolk 1515 EST
Four gangways linked the SEAHAWK with the dock; the two on the left were being used to offload the crew while the two on the right were being used to bring fire and rescue personnel up to the deck of the wounded carrier. In addition, two fireboats in the harbor were nearly in place to begin spraying the flaming tower with water. Search-and-rescue couldn't wait for the fire to be put out before they began their work, but the quicker it was doused the easier their job would be.
Although he wasn't trained in search-and-rescue, Harm had managed to quickly persuade the fire chief to let him help.
". . . Chief, I know the layout of the SEAHAWK, I've spent time on her. I can answer questions for your men on the spot and you won't have to waste time consulting blueprints."
The fire chief knew the man in front of him made sense. His knowledge could save them precious minutes, and in a rescue operation like this, those minutes could make the difference between life and death for the injured.
"All right, Commander - Rabb, is it? - you can assist, but you play by my rules, got it? I don't need extra victims," Chief Yacobi reminded him.
Harm let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Whatever you say, Chief. I just want to help."
The twenty-year veteran of the fire service proceeded to give the lawyer quick instructions.
"First, you suit up in rescue gear. Captain Danzig can get you a suit, helmet, and oxygen equipment. Second, you stay with the team I'm assigning you to. No wandering off on your own, no heroics. I meant what I said about no extra victims.
"Finally, Commander Rabb," he deliberately called the Naval officer by name, "When the team leader says to pull out, you listen to him. You may know the SEAHAWK, but we know fire. We know how it behaves and when it's safe or unsafe to stay in any location. If you get the order to leave an area, you leave, with no arguments. You follow my guy's orders same as you would your commanding officer's; you got that?"
The answer the chief received was 100% honest, but he didn't know that it wasn't the answer he wanted.
"Yes sir, Chief. The same as my commanding officer's." And he meant it. He would follow orders, unless he felt he had to do otherwise. . .the maverick lawyer sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Harm followed the chief's directions to where he could suit up and check in with Captain Danzig. A group of men were donning similar gear as he introduced himself to the burly man with salt-and-pepper hair.
"Captain Danzig?" At the curt nod he continued on. "Commander Harmon Rabb. I know the layout of the SEAHAWK; I can help you navigate the passages below deck. Chief Yacobi has authorized me to help, and he told me to report to you."
"Commander, we'll be glad to get your help, on one condition," he looked intently at the man in front of him. "Onboard the SEAHAWK, my word is law. What I say-"
"-goes," the lawyer finished the rescue captain's sentence. "The chief made it clear I follow your orders. I will do what you tell me, sir," his eyes left the captain's to look over at the flames still burning on the SEAHAWK, "I've got friends on board and I want to help."
The captain merely nodded, "Fine. The assistance is appreciated." He turned slightly away from Harm and raised his voice to issue an order.
"Guys, this is Commander Harmon Rabb. He knows the layout of the carrier and he's going to help us find the injured. Kelly, get him some gear."
The knot of men paused to quickly greet the Navy man and then turned their attention back to getting ready to board the SEAHAWK. One of them, short with curly, brown hair and a mustache extended his hand to the newcomer.
"Chet Kelly. I can get you suited up, there's some gear over here . . . ."
With Chet's help, Harm got himself zipped and buckled into a firefighter's protective gear. As he strapped the oxygen tank to his back, he listened to the final instructions coming from the smaller man in front of him.
"The oxygen mask covers your whole face, you'll have to shout pretty loudly to be heard through the mask and whatever noise we'll be working in. And it will probably get pretty loud at times, keep your ears peeled for orders from Cap, and listen for the warning bell that goes off when your oxygen tank starts to get low. The minute that happens, you let me know. Once that alarm sounds, you've only got ten minutes of air left."
Kelly paused in his directions to look over the tall figure, now indistinguishable from the other rescue workers. "You got any questions, Rabb?"
"No, I'm good. Let's get going," was his only reply. With that, the six men turned to walk up the gangway that led to the SEAHAWK.
USS SEAHAWK Exact location unknown
Mac slowly returned to consciousness, a groaning sound catching her attention and helping to bring her around.
// What happened? // she thought dully. It was taking too much effort to simply open her eyes. // Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck? // She tried to draw a deep breath, but stopped short when a searing pain accompanied that basic effort.
// All right, Marine, stop and think. What do you remember? //
She cast her mind back, checking her internal clock to see how much time had passed since she had left Jen on deck to run back to the office and retrieve the book she had left there. Yet, that automatic and easy task also seemed to be beyond her abilities.
// Okay, if my sense of time is screwed up, I know at least I must've gotten a blow to the head. Great detective work, Marine // she complimented herself sarcastically. // And for your next trick . . . ? //
// All right, open your eyes and see what's around you. That should provide some information, Sherlock. //
She slowly opened her eyes, not moving, but letting her gaze take in all that she could immediately see. It was dark, nothing to see by except for the scattered emergency lights along the corridor. She could see the ceiling above her - she was obviously flat on her back. // Another brilliant deduction! How do you do it? //
Mac let her eyes travel in a downward direction and she saw the hatch lying across her legs, hips and abdomen.
// Well, that explains the hit-by-a-truck feeling // she grimaced. // Still, with a solid steel hatch lying on me, I wonder I don't feel worse. What the hell *happened?* //
The injured woman focused her attention on listening. Were there any sounds that could give her a clue? Straining to hear, Mac could only make out some sounds of grinding metal in the distance.
// Okay, something's seriously gone wrong on the SEAHAWK. It must be big, affecting the whole ship, or I'd hear other people, or people would be coming here to investigate if it was a localized problem. Conclusion, I'm on my own and somehow I've got to get out of here. //
And it was then, when Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie tried to move, that she realized she couldn't. At all.
Port of Norfolk 1515 EST
Four gangways linked the SEAHAWK with the dock; the two on the left were being used to offload the crew while the two on the right were being used to bring fire and rescue personnel up to the deck of the wounded carrier. In addition, two fireboats in the harbor were nearly in place to begin spraying the flaming tower with water. Search-and-rescue couldn't wait for the fire to be put out before they began their work, but the quicker it was doused the easier their job would be.
Although he wasn't trained in search-and-rescue, Harm had managed to quickly persuade the fire chief to let him help.
". . . Chief, I know the layout of the SEAHAWK, I've spent time on her. I can answer questions for your men on the spot and you won't have to waste time consulting blueprints."
The fire chief knew the man in front of him made sense. His knowledge could save them precious minutes, and in a rescue operation like this, those minutes could make the difference between life and death for the injured.
"All right, Commander - Rabb, is it? - you can assist, but you play by my rules, got it? I don't need extra victims," Chief Yacobi reminded him.
Harm let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Whatever you say, Chief. I just want to help."
The twenty-year veteran of the fire service proceeded to give the lawyer quick instructions.
"First, you suit up in rescue gear. Captain Danzig can get you a suit, helmet, and oxygen equipment. Second, you stay with the team I'm assigning you to. No wandering off on your own, no heroics. I meant what I said about no extra victims.
"Finally, Commander Rabb," he deliberately called the Naval officer by name, "When the team leader says to pull out, you listen to him. You may know the SEAHAWK, but we know fire. We know how it behaves and when it's safe or unsafe to stay in any location. If you get the order to leave an area, you leave, with no arguments. You follow my guy's orders same as you would your commanding officer's; you got that?"
The answer the chief received was 100% honest, but he didn't know that it wasn't the answer he wanted.
"Yes sir, Chief. The same as my commanding officer's." And he meant it. He would follow orders, unless he felt he had to do otherwise. . .the maverick lawyer sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Harm followed the chief's directions to where he could suit up and check in with Captain Danzig. A group of men were donning similar gear as he introduced himself to the burly man with salt-and-pepper hair.
"Captain Danzig?" At the curt nod he continued on. "Commander Harmon Rabb. I know the layout of the SEAHAWK; I can help you navigate the passages below deck. Chief Yacobi has authorized me to help, and he told me to report to you."
"Commander, we'll be glad to get your help, on one condition," he looked intently at the man in front of him. "Onboard the SEAHAWK, my word is law. What I say-"
"-goes," the lawyer finished the rescue captain's sentence. "The chief made it clear I follow your orders. I will do what you tell me, sir," his eyes left the captain's to look over at the flames still burning on the SEAHAWK, "I've got friends on board and I want to help."
The captain merely nodded, "Fine. The assistance is appreciated." He turned slightly away from Harm and raised his voice to issue an order.
"Guys, this is Commander Harmon Rabb. He knows the layout of the carrier and he's going to help us find the injured. Kelly, get him some gear."
The knot of men paused to quickly greet the Navy man and then turned their attention back to getting ready to board the SEAHAWK. One of them, short with curly, brown hair and a mustache extended his hand to the newcomer.
"Chet Kelly. I can get you suited up, there's some gear over here . . . ."
With Chet's help, Harm got himself zipped and buckled into a firefighter's protective gear. As he strapped the oxygen tank to his back, he listened to the final instructions coming from the smaller man in front of him.
"The oxygen mask covers your whole face, you'll have to shout pretty loudly to be heard through the mask and whatever noise we'll be working in. And it will probably get pretty loud at times, keep your ears peeled for orders from Cap, and listen for the warning bell that goes off when your oxygen tank starts to get low. The minute that happens, you let me know. Once that alarm sounds, you've only got ten minutes of air left."
Kelly paused in his directions to look over the tall figure, now indistinguishable from the other rescue workers. "You got any questions, Rabb?"
"No, I'm good. Let's get going," was his only reply. With that, the six men turned to walk up the gangway that led to the SEAHAWK.
USS SEAHAWK Exact location unknown
Mac slowly returned to consciousness, a groaning sound catching her attention and helping to bring her around.
// What happened? // she thought dully. It was taking too much effort to simply open her eyes. // Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck? // She tried to draw a deep breath, but stopped short when a searing pain accompanied that basic effort.
// All right, Marine, stop and think. What do you remember? //
She cast her mind back, checking her internal clock to see how much time had passed since she had left Jen on deck to run back to the office and retrieve the book she had left there. Yet, that automatic and easy task also seemed to be beyond her abilities.
// Okay, if my sense of time is screwed up, I know at least I must've gotten a blow to the head. Great detective work, Marine // she complimented herself sarcastically. // And for your next trick . . . ? //
// All right, open your eyes and see what's around you. That should provide some information, Sherlock. //
She slowly opened her eyes, not moving, but letting her gaze take in all that she could immediately see. It was dark, nothing to see by except for the scattered emergency lights along the corridor. She could see the ceiling above her - she was obviously flat on her back. // Another brilliant deduction! How do you do it? //
Mac let her eyes travel in a downward direction and she saw the hatch lying across her legs, hips and abdomen.
// Well, that explains the hit-by-a-truck feeling // she grimaced. // Still, with a solid steel hatch lying on me, I wonder I don't feel worse. What the hell *happened?* //
The injured woman focused her attention on listening. Were there any sounds that could give her a clue? Straining to hear, Mac could only make out some sounds of grinding metal in the distance.
// Okay, something's seriously gone wrong on the SEAHAWK. It must be big, affecting the whole ship, or I'd hear other people, or people would be coming here to investigate if it was a localized problem. Conclusion, I'm on my own and somehow I've got to get out of here. //
And it was then, when Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie tried to move, that she realized she couldn't. At all.