“Ammonium nitrate and fuel oil. Back out and secure a perimeter. Close the south entrance.” Wes swallowed hard. Two men were dead.
His phone vibrated. The message statedInitiate level-two protocol, all personnel shelter in place. All personnel shelter in place.
Kip ran over to him wearing a rain jacket. “Troy locked down the Center. We were notified by the North Gate: two sheriff’s deputies were here to investigate youths’ drinking. The kids are detained.”
A party of eight teens were sprawled out on the wet grass as the rain poured down on them. Two soaked, soot-covered deputies were standing guard.
Kip circled two fingers in the air. “Get them out of the rain and to the main building,” he said to Chambers, the level-three supervisor, as lightning exploded over their heads. “Make sure all are checked for injury and given dry clothing.”
Wes continued to scan the area to look for further danger and assess the carnage.
“We need to clear the rest of the area. ANFO is in the cabin we pulled the kids from. The other cabin blew,” Thorn said.
Wes turned to Kip. “Don’t go over the radios until I reach the families. Conway and Marx from Zulu Team are KIA,” he said solemnly as he rushed toward the site where the explosion occurred.
Wes and Kip made it into the debris field. The first patient they found was Zulu Team’s leader, Tobey O’Mara. “O’Mara, hold on; we will get you out of here,” Wes said.
Tobey grabbed Wes’s wrist. “How is my team?”
“Let’s worry about you,” Kip said.
Wes remained stoic as he looked at the Zulu Team member beside him. He grabbed a red light stick, a blanket and an IV set. “Keep him covered as best you can.” His stomach hardened at the sight of the critical injuries.
“I’ve got this, sir. I gave him some morphine already,” the teammate said.
Wes dropped the IV easily. “Good. Run the IV wide open. As soon as we have transport, you’re first out.” He moved on to the next patient.
“Sir, we crossed the threshold, and it blew.” Another Zulu Team member sat beside his obviously dead colleague.
Wes covered the body and wrapped a blanket around the injured operator. “Let me look at you.” His focus sharpened with every step.
“I was toward the back. I pulled O’Mara out. How’s he doing?” the operator panted.
“He’s got some burns. We will take care of him,” Wes sighed, pulling the blanket tighter and leaving a yellow light stick before moving to the next seven after that.
Christian joined him. “TJ and Ken are setting up the pasture for a helo landing any minute.”
“Helo in this weather?” Wes crunched his brow.
“They were already airborne when the storm hit. Josh Stone and Adina Ganz are inbound with Ellie,” Christian advised.
Wes gazed into the sky. The sky was a silver blue, and hail pelted his face.Let them be safe.He had personnel to get out of the elements.
“Wes,” Christian called to him. “Huge pile-up. Flooding. Inova is on hospital diversion. Winds too high, and once the helo sets down, they can’t fly out either.”
“Inova is the only place nearby. We can’t fly them anywhere. Driving will be dangerous. We’ve got nine injured that I know of and two dead from Zulu Team. We need to get the injured out of the cold and rain. And the dead off the scene. We have eight kids found in the second cabin, which is filled with ANFO. I haven’t seen the kids yet. Chris, pull every medical person we have and notify Baker and Pete what’s coming their way. Kip, get every large vehicle and create a convoy.”
Kip was on the phone at the same time he was listening to Wes. “The kids made it up to the main building with the deputies. Troy is delegating as necessary. He ordered a few level twos to cordon off a piece of the cafeteria to secure the trespassers. He also said he’d make the parent notifications and do an interrogation Bear-style.”
Wes managed a smile. “Bear-style, silence punctuated with the occasional scary noise and bright light. Works well on drunks.” He swiped rain from his brow with the back of his wrist.
Lights moved down the road toward them. Four Navigators pulled onto the grass and drove toward the scene. Wes assisted a couple of operators, lifting O’Mara into one of the vehicles. Jumping inside beside him, he maintained a poker face. In the light, he estimated he was burned on over thirty percent of his body.
“Tobey, who do you want me to call?” One thing war taught him was never pump sunshine. The injuries were life-threatening.
“How bad is it, Boss?” Tobey took a strained breath.
Wes swallowed hard. “You got caught in the blast wave. I don’t know what’s going on inside. Outside about thirty percent burns,” Wes said as he worked to peel away the burned clothing before they stuck to him. “This is a big bump in the road.”
