Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
In 1906 an 8.0 earthquake shook San Francisco for a whole minute, with the epicenter offshore, about two miles from the city, near Mussel Rock. At least 3000 people died back then and more than a quarter million others were left homeless – from a city with 410.000 citizens.
83 years later, in 1989, a 7.1 tremor hit 60 miles south of the city for 15 seconds – 4000 people were injured, 63 died, around 12.000 were left homeless.
Sounds better, if you only look at the numbers. The relatives of the victims might disagree.
After 9/11 a lot of money and attention was diverted towards preventing man-made disasters and homeland security set the priorities regarding emergency planning and preparation. Hurricane Katrina in 2005, however, was an eye-opener. Al Qaida or not, you can't ignore nature.
So more money was poured into retrofitting bridges and overpasses on the State Highway System to current earthquake standards. But, let's face it, San Francisco without Bay Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge, which might very well go down in a major earthquake, is basically an island and no amount of preparation whatsoever can miraculously get 2 million people off that island safely and fast.
Not to mention the fact that nearly a third of the city's schools are not up to the current earthquake standards. Neither is the city's biggest hospital, San Francisco General. Earthquakes of the 1906/1989 category are very likely to break gas and water lines, causing massive fires with the fire brigades unable to extinguish them, due to lack of water… while hundreds of thousands of acres all around the city at the same time could go underwater, should parts of the 1,000-mile levee system that protects farmland and vital fresh water supplies from San Francisco Bay's salt water break.
Thank God at least Ash and Philippa were out of town for the week.
"Ilsa, Guerrero, you better leave the city as long as it's possible." Winston was holding the flashlight as Chance inspected the remains of the most intact looking elevator shaft. The one Frank had died in lay in ruins only a couple of feet away.
"We aren't going anywhere", Ilsa replied firmly via earpiece.
"At least go outside, to the park or whatever. I doubt the warehouse is up to earthquake standards", Chance tried again.
"All the equipment we might need is here, at the office. Especially the satellite connection. We're staying." Guerrero this time.
Together Chance and Winston forced open the elevator doors. Through the cab's rescue door in the ceiling, Chance climbed upwards. The heavy fireman's uniform hampered him, but without the equipment he'd be lost – it was pitch black inside the shaft and the helmet's strong flashlight at least let him see where to go next. Aside from that the helmet itself protected him from lose debris, falling down every now and then.
"At least 20 feet more, Chance", Guerrero told him via earpiece.
20 feet, what a ridiculously short distance… unless you have to cross it by shinnying up a dark, crumbling well. Sweat was running down Chance's face and neck in thick, relentless streams, mixing with the dust from the collapsed building and creating a grimy, itching layer on his skin.
In addition to that breathing became more and more difficult, the higher up he got. Of course, all the ventilation shafts were surely blocked by debris. But what kind of smell was that?
"Better use the oxygen mask", Guerrero advised Chance. "The building was on gas supply and although they cut it off by now, there's no telling how much is still streaming out the damaged pipes."
"Ames might need it more than I do", Chance panted, pulling himself up another few inches.
… … …
Down in the garage, Winston got company. Five firemen with heavy equipment in tow slowly followed Chance upwards, stabilizing the shaft on their way as best as they could.
"How come you're here after all?", Winston asked one of them. "According to the book of regulations…"
"Apparently someone dug up a couple of our secrets we'd like to keep under wraps. And someone else offered to pay all our mortgages."
Was it selfish what Guerrero and Ilsa had done? Considering that outside the city was in turmoil with ongoing evacuations, sirens wailing all over town… Five firemen surely could have been put to better use than rescuing one person who was most likely not alive anyway.
From a strictly rational point of view, yes.
To hell with rationality. This was Ames they were talking about.
On the other end of the San Francisco, someone else decided to ignore rationality, too. The reasonable thing would have been to leave the city again as fast as possible. But somehow Emma had the feeling that this was the perfect situation to set her plan in motion.
And so, while the rest of SF's population was trying to get away, she headed towards the Financial District.
… … …
Since the firemen were building a retreat passage suitable for a stretcher and that was taking time, Chance was many feet above them when he reached the level that must have once been the 9th floor. Should he wait for them?
He needed to somehow force open the doors that, in normal times, protected people from falling down the elevator well. Theoretically not that much of a problem with the crowbar on his back, but he had little to none footing – if he lost balance, he would go down the shaft all the way to the garage level, and probably drag a fireman or two with him.
On the other hand – every second he lost, counted. If Ames was exposed to gas from a broken pipe… if she was injured and bleeding…
Chance took the risk and began to work on the elevator doors. The strain in his legs, in his back, in his arms seemed to tear at him, sent spasms down his spine. One wrong move… The sweat streaming down his forehead hampered his already diminished vision and breathing seemed to get more difficult by the second.
If this was gas…
If Ames was lying in a section filled with gas…
Groaning and screeching, the doors gave way and chance clambered out of the shaft. Guerrero had been right. Close by the elevator, the walls had held up and a small cavern had been created.
Chance almost didn't recognize Ames, her body was so white from the building's dust.
But there she lay.