Earthquake in San Francisco

Chapter 13

1

The elevator stopped at the 83rd floor. The doors opened. Ironside put his hands on both sides of the frame and pulled his chair into the hall. Looking down each end of the hall, he couldn't see very far. The lights were out. The only illumination available was at the bottom of each door. It didn't prove to be enough light for him to see much further than directly in front of his wheelchair. Hunt and Hubbard were obviously trying to make sure he was blinded and couldn't see them coming.

Ironside had come somewhat prepared. He pulled the cellphone out of his pocket, turned on the flashlight application and shined it down the hall. Unfortunately, it didn't go very far. Then, he knew they weren't intended to be used as a full-fledged flashlight. He was surprised how much light it did provide him.

Ironside could hear the padding of Otto's feet behind him. It never ceased to amaze him how fast the dog could locate him. The shepherd came up behind him and whined. He seemed to be able to sense that his master would want him to be quiet. Ironside patted the dog on the head. "You need to hide, boy. Go on now. I know you will be able to tell if I need help. Go now."

Without hesitation, the dog left his side. Ironside continued down the hall. Where the hell was Hunt and Hubbard? They were playing mind games with him. If they thought it would affect him they were in for a major surprise. He could play those with the best of them.

He began checking the doors as he went along. So far, all of them had been locked. Sooner or later, he would come upon one that wasn't. That would be where he would find Hunt and Hubbard.

He was nearly to the end of the hall when he found an unlocked door. Slowly, he pushed the door open. The room was dark, but not dark enough to keep the windows from reviewing the silhouette of a woman sitting in a chair. The detective could feel the knot in his stomach. He had no doubt who the woman was.

"Robert, is that you? If it is, get out of here and save yourself. I am old and I have lived my life. You have many more years ahead of you. Please, Robert, if you care about me, just leave."

It broke his heart to listen to his Aunt Victoria plead with him to protect himself and leave her behind. She had known him all of his life. Victoria should realize he would never leave her behind, even if it meant forfeiting his own life. His job was to protect and defend, and he had every intention of doing his job.

"I'm not going anywhere." He wheeled over to her. Using the flashlight on his phone, it provided enough light for him to see the face of his aunt. She had a bruise and a welt under her left eye. The anger within him began to bubble to the top. What kind of monster would beat up an elderly woman? Using his thumb, he ran it across the bruise. Hunt would pay for this; he would see to it.

The chief began untying the ropes which bound her hands. Suddenly, the lights turned on. Ironside quickly turned his chair around. Standing in the doorway was Frank Hunt.

"I have waited a long time for this, Ironside. You took 15 years of my life, and now I am going to take what's left of yours."

"Crooks like you never cease to amaze me. You break laws, you kill people, and you think there shouldn't be any consequences. Furthermore, you blame the police officers who put you behind bars. I am not responsible for the 15 years of your life you spent in prison, Mister Hunt. You solely are the one responsible. I now have the proof that you killed Zack Hill. You're going to pay for that for the rest of your life. I can guarantee the district attorney will be asking for the death penalty."

Hunt stood there with his gun pointing at Ironside, and began to laugh. "You certainly deserve your reputation. Unfortunately, you do not seem to appreciate the situation in which you find yourself. I'm not going back to prison. When I'm finished with you and the old lady, I am leaving the United States for Mexico. I'll never return here. Therefore, I'll never be tried for the murder of Hill, or you and your aunt, for that matter."

"You won't even get out of this building alive," Ironside taunted.

"We've kept a close eye on the area surrounding the building. You did as you were told and brought no one with you. By the way, your friend wasn't careful enough. I saw him leaving the building. I don't know who he was, but he certainly was not a cop."

Having not mentioned Otto, the chief was pretty sure they had not seen him. That element of surprise was still their biggest hope of getting out of the situation alive. What bothered him was Roland Hubbard. Where was he? He had expected him to be here along with Hunt. Instead, he was somewhere else in the building. It was possible that he was the one who turned on the lights as Frank Hunt entered the room.

Victoria Ironside finished removing the ropes from her hands that her nephew had loosened. She held on to them to keep Hunt from knowing she was no longer tied to the chair. He had been so confident that she'd be unable to remove the ropes, that he hadn't bothered to tie her feet to the chair.

Victoria had meant it when she told Robert to leave her behind. She was in her seventies, and had lived a good long life. Victoria would do whatever was necessary to protect her nephew. She knew he wasn't helpless just because he was in a wheelchair. He was known for getting out of dangerous situations despite his disability. Still, being in a wheelchair would make it difficult for him to protect himself under these circumstances.

"Where's Hubbard?" Ironside asked.

Hunt smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know? Forget it, Ironside. You are not leaving this building alive. I've been planning this day ever since they closed the bars on me that first day."

"Do you honestly think my officers are going to allow you to leave this building alive? If something happens to me, you will have an accident."

"And here I thought you were an honest by-the-book cop," Hunt said sarcastically.

"I am, but I can't control the whole police force. When a cop dies, they want revenge." Ironside was aware that most cops would go the extra mile to catch a cop killer. However, very few would try to take revenge and kill the perpetrator. They knew the veteran detective would arrest anyone who did. Hunt didn't know that though.

"You're bluffing, Chief. There weren't any cops anywhere near this building. I know you better than you think I do. You did exactly as you were told to do. You wouldn't do anything else with your aunt's life at stake. Now, wheel that go-cart over here. Although, I believe you did as you were told, I'm still going to make sure."

Robert Ironside wheeled his chair slowly toward Frank Hunt. He stopped directly in front of him. Staring into Hunt's eyes, he waited.

Frank Hunt step forward. Instead of pointing the gun at Ironside, he pointed the barrel at Victoria Ironside. "If you try anything, your aunt will be the first to die."

"I'm not going to try anything," Ironside assured him.

"Then you are not as smart as everyone gives you credit for. You don't seem to understand, Chief. You're going to die. If I were in your place, I'd rather go down fighting than just sit there and wait to die."

Ironside said nothing. He would just wait for an opportunity to present itself. It'd better do so soon if he were to get himself and his aunt out of danger.

Hunt reached into the pockets of the detectives suit coat. There he found a rubber band, but he did not find the pepper spray or the fingernail file. Ironside had moved them into the sleeve of his shirt.

"That's it, Chief? That's all you brought, one heavy-duty rubber band? It seems you're not as smart as everyone makes you out to be. I would've thought you would have tried to slip a gun somewhere in that go-cart of yours."

"I didn't need to. You're not leaving this building. The police will pick you up as soon as you do. In fact, they will probably be storming this building shortly," Ironside bluffed.

"You must really think I'm stupid. You didn't bring any police with you. I doubt very highly you told anybody you were coming here. I don't know who the man was that was with you, but if he had informed anybody you were here, the police would've already made their move. It won't work, Ironside. You're bluffing, and we both know it."

"You don't know anything. You're just a crook that was able to pull the wool over the warden's eyes. But that won't help you now. We have the proof. Your time is up; now give me the gun. You're under arrest for the murder of Zack Hill."

The look on Hunt's face soured. "I've had just about enough of you. I waited a long time for this very moment. It's time for you to die, Ironside." Hunt pointed the gun directly at Ironside's head.

"No!" shouted Victoria Ironside. She got up out of her chair and headed toward Frank Hunt.

Hunt reacted quickly. He turned the gun from Ironside to Victoria. The chief rammed his chair into Hunt's leg. He bent over in pain, but didn't drop the gun. Ironside went for his gun, but Hunt quickly raised it, and pointed it back at the detective. Before he could get the shot off, the room begin to shake.

Ironside realized immediately that it was another earthquake. This time, it was different. This was the larger earthquake they had been talking about. Pictures fell off the wall. The desk in the room slid toward the other side and hit the wall. Everything on it fell to the floor. The chairs that had been in front of the desk overturned.

Ironside had trouble controlling his chair as it begin to roll with the shaking. A rather large bookcase beside Victoria Ironside began to tip. Chief yelled at his aunt, however, her reaction was to look in the direction of the bookcase. As it tipped and begin to fall over, Ironside knew she'd never get out of its way.

Otto burst into the room. Sensing Ironside's friend was in danger, the shepherd headed straight for Victoria Ironside. Leaping into the air, the dog hit her head on, knocking her out of the path of the falling bookcase.

The bookcase slid backwards, crashing through the window and falling 83 floors to the pavement below. As Ironside's chair began to roll toward the open space where the window used to be, he reached down and locked the wheels.

Glancing over at Frank Hunt, the chief realized he still had control of his gun. The detective had to disarm the man before he got off another shot, possibly killing him or his aunt.

The building continued to sway. Looking out the window, and trying to control his sliding chair at the same time, Ironside could see sections of the building across the street had broken off, and were crashing to the pavement below.

Frank Hunt pointed his gun once again at the wheelchair-bound detective. He pulled the trigger as he lost his footing, and the bullet embedded in the ceiling. Falling to the floor, a filing cabinet slid toward him and tipped over. He rolled to his left and avoided the cabinet slamming into him.

The building continued to sway and shake. Any kind of control was nearly impossible. Even Otto, who realized the man on the floor was a threat, could not control his footing as he tried to get to Frank Hunt.

"Otto, get her out of here!" Ironside shouted at the dog. Crawling on the floor, the shepherd made his way to Victoria, who was also on the floor with her hands over her head as parts of the ceiling begin to collapse.

With persistence, Otto made it to Victoria. He grabbed her by the sleeve of her jacket. Whining, he began to pull her toward the door. Still crouched down, he made progress as the building continue to sway. A heavy floor lamp tipped over and fell just short of Victoria and Otto. The dog continued to drag Victoria to the door.

Ironside was in his own battle with his wheelchair. Despite the locked wheels, the wheelchair was inching its way toward the open space where the window used to be. The detective attempted to grab on anything close to him, but to no avail. The building was swaying in the direction of the broken window.

Frank Hunt rose to his knees. He had lost control of the gun in his attempt to avoid the falling file cabinet. He knew he had to reach the gun before Ironside did. If that happened, surely the detective would shoot him. Sliding toward the window, Hunt grabbed the filing cabinet. A few feet away, the gun was sliding toward the window as well. He laid back down on the floor and crawled toward the gun. When he reached it, he picked it up and placed it in his jacket pocket. He would worry about Ironside later. Right now, he simply wanted to survive the earthquake.

Ironside looked up to see that Otto successfully got Victoria out of the room. He continued to struggle with his wheelchair. Grabbing anything he could, he tried to slow its movement toward the window. As the building continued to sway and shake, Ironside moved with it. Unfortunately, he was moving in a deadly direction.

The detective was losing the battle to control the chair and to keep it from going out the window. His chair was only inches away from falling 83 floors downward. With the room in shambles, there was nothing further for the detective to grab onto. His chair rolled out the window.

Frank Hunt watched Ironside fall out of the window. He felt cheated. The earthquake cheated him out of killing the damn cripple himself. At least, he knew he was dead. Ironside would've known that Hunt was responsible for his death as he plunged 83 floors to the pavement. As much as he would like to stick around and see the detective splashed all over the cement below, Frank knew this was a perfect time to get out of San Francisco. There would be plenty of confusion, and no one would be looking for him. He had to find a way down to the basement to help Rolland if he needed it. The two of them would get out of this god-forsaken city and head for Mexico.

Ironside was in a free fall. His chair had already plunged to the ground. If he didn't find something to stop his fall, he was going to die. Below him, he spotted a flagpole which displayed the American flag. The flag was gigantic, so the detective thought it might take his weight despite the speed he was falling toward the ground.

He would have to time it perfectly and grab the pole in hopes that it held. As he approached the pole, he reached out. He missed it with one hand, but grabbed it with the other. Fortunately, the flag was huge. Therefore, the pole was extremely thick and heavy. Despite the heaviness of the pole, Ironside's weight bent it way down. He heard it crack, but it held. He reached up with his other hand and grab the pole. Immediately, he began moving toward the building to get beyond the crack in the pole. If it broke while he was on the wrong side of it, it would mean certain death. He moved slowly in hopes that his movement did not completely sever the pole in half. Once beyond it, Ironside assessed his situation. Although the detective had extreme upper body strength due to his disability, he wasn't kidding himself. He would not be able to hold on for long. He found himself in front of a large pane glass window.

A normal man with the use of his legs could kick the window until it broke. His disability would make it extremely difficult. His only choice was to attempt to swing his entire body toward the window. His concern was that the jolt might loosen his grip on the pole. He had no choice, he had to try. He would find it more difficult than he thought it would be. The pole pointed outward away from the building. He was holding it with both hands and his body was pointing sideways. He realized he would have to change his position so that both hands were together and pointing him toward the building. Without the use of his legs swinging back and forth was difficult, yet the chief was determined to do so. He kept moving back and forth until he thought he had enough leverage to swing himself into the building. He figured he had one chance only. Ironside was supporting his entire weight with his arms and was tiring quickly.

With one big swing, he flung himself toward the window. It did not shatter, but it did break. The window look like a gigantic spider. Ironside knew he was losing his grip on the pole. He had one last chance to break the window. He began swinging again and threw himself toward the window. This time the window shattered. Ironside let go of the pole and was propelled into the building. Exhausted, with muscles that felt like rubber, he laid there for a moment. Suddenly, he heard a crack and a large piece of glass at the top of the window came crashing toward him. The detective rolled to his right. His upper torso moved with him, but his crippled legs did not. The sharp glass dropped and penetrated his left leg. Ironside would have yelled out in pain if he had felt it. His paralyzed legs gave him no indication that the glass had gone through his suit coat pants and into his leg. He crawled away from the window to avoid any more falling glass. Sitting up, he pulled the glass from his leg, which immediately started bleeding. Not caring for the speed of the blood flow, he undid his belt and tied it above the wound. He was afraid it would not hold for long. The wound was deep and bleeding out was a real threat.

2

As Sergeant Brown's plane came down the runway, it began to veer to the right, and then to the left. He knew exactly what the problem was. It was an earthquake, and a bad one.

The captain came over the loudspeaker, "Folks, San Francisco is having an earthquake. We are going to take the plane back up into the air. Please be sure that your seat belts are securely locked."

The plane continued down the runway and began speeding up. Ed worried the pilot would not be able to pick up enough speed to take off before they veered off the runway completely. People on the plane were screaming. A full-blown panic existed in the cabin. Ed felt helpless. His friends were in the city right smack-dab in the middle of an earthquake. He was worried about the chief. In a wheelchair, he would have no control over it. Thank God, Mark and Eve would be there to help him. The sergeant wished the pilot had chosen to attempt to land the plane. He understood why he did not. He was not the only passenger, and the pilot was responsible for the lives of all those aboard. Still, all the detective wanted to do was get to police headquarters to his friends and the city he loved.

As the plane lifted in the air, Brown looked out the window. He could see the lights of the buildings shaking and swaying as they flew over the Golden Gate Bridge. Ed watched the bridge sway back and forth, but it seemed to be holding. Chunks of buildings were falling to the ground. This time there would be extensive damage to the city.

3

Mark Sanger was studying when the earthquake hit. His chair was moving underneath him. The building seemed to be shaking and swaying. They had gone through several small earthquakes in the past couple of days, but he immediately knew this one was different. It was much bigger and more dangerous than the previous earthquakes. Mark had only one thing on his mind.

"Chief!" he shouted. Mark stood up from his chair an attempted to go into the main room where he knew his boss had been sitting. The floor moved underneath him. He lost his balance and fell into the pool table. Holding on to it, he went around and headed toward the main room of the chief's office residence. Pushing open the door and trying to keep his balance, Mark entered the main room. Robert Ironside was nowhere to be seen. "Chief!" he called out again. Still, there was no response from the detective.

Mark ran up the ramp and checked the bathroom. Every step of the way, he was holding on to something in order to keep his balance. When he did not find the chief in the bathroom, he headed for his bedroom. There was no sign of him there either.

He did the only thing he could think of doing when he couldn't locate his boss, he stood in the archway of his boss's bedroom door and waited for the earthquake to calm while objects and chairs fell to the floor.

4

Eve Whitfield was watching the news when the room began to sway. The television tipped over and fell to the floor. The chair she was sitting in began moving around the room. Pictures fell off the walls. She could hear small appliances on the counter in the kitchen fall to the floor. Her bookcase tipped and missed her by inches.

Her first concern was not for her own safety but, for Mark and the chief. Ed was safe because she knew he was in New York. Right now, she was helpless to help anyone. All Eve could do was wait for the earthquake to subside.

5

After the earthquake stopped, Victoria was determined to get back to her nephew. He could need her help. She started back down the hall, but Otto stepped in front of her. He lowered his head and growled softly. It was not a threatening gesture, but rather a warning. The dogs seem to sense Victoria would be in danger if she went back to that room. Otto grabbed her sleeve in his mouth and pulled her toward the stairway. Victoria was not completely confident that the dog wouldn't attack her. So, she followed him to the stairway as he led her down to the 82nd floor. Victoria was concerned that the shepherd was trying to lead her out of the building. She was in her 70s. She didn't think she could go down 83 flights of stairs. Nor did she want to leave her nephew unprotected from that maniac. Every time she tried to turn back, the dog stopped her.

They had gone down several flights of stairs. Victoria had lost count. Otto continue to lead her downward. He stopped on the landing of the next level. Victoria looked to see why the canine hesitated. The stairs were gone. They apparently had collapsed during the earthquake. Now what? They couldn't go any further.

Then, Victoria heard a voice. It was not that of her nephew's. He would be stuck on the 83rd floor. The voice unmistakably belong to Frank Hunt. He was cursing at his current situation. What bothered Victoria even more was he was headed in her direction.