Julian scanned through the weather stations and NOAA. “I hate it when they all agree. The storm is sitting on us. We’re six hours in, and they’re predicting another ten hours. The winds remain at a Cat 3.”
Grim-faced, they watched the monitors in silence.
The sat phone squawked. “Coop, Smooth, we are seeing people looking for shelter at our front door. Advise,” Bruce asked.
“Kip set up floors seven and below for refugees. I’ll send two teams to provide assistance and security. They have a plan to follow in the light green binder. We have clothing, cots, and blankets. One-minute showers. I’ll send food. Toys are in the primary color bins. Capacity is 112 people,” Kyle said.
“Roger,” Bruce sighed heavily. “Damn him and his colors.”
The radio chirped. “This is Paulsen. It’s rough going out here. We’ve got submerged vehicles and, and floaters,” he choked. They could hear the wind and water pelting him. “We’re heading toward Gert Town and trying to follow the currents. A lot of the houses are submerged. Can you give me my GPS location?”
Julian looked from his monitor to the screen and back. “You’re sure you’re in Gert Town? I’ve got you in the Fourteenth Ward.” He shot a look at Bruce.
“Pass…ing….Xav…ier….U…” Noah’s transmission broke up.
Kyle called Mia. “Kiwi, it’s Coop. Our GPS are all off? Is it the storm?”
“It’s not the storm. I’m checking the run. Calling Rich.” She disconnected.
“Rainman, go by landmarks if you can. GPS system is giving false readings,” Julian instructed Noah.
“Boat 2?” Julian called for the second boat.
“This is Red in Boat 2,” Joseph “Red” Canel from Bravo Team responded.
“GPS down. Location?” Julian asked.
“Following St. Charles Avenue, heading northeast,” Red replied, wind buffeting his words.
“Check in every fifteen.” Julian grabbed his stubbled chin. “Kip, where are you?” He overlayed the wind direction on the map. Signals from his watch popped up in multiple locations on it.
* * *
Kip’s eyescouldn’t focus; his lips were cracked. The skin exposed to the elements shriveled. When he awakened, his watch told him he’d been in the water for five hours. He tried to remember why he was there, wherever there was. His head ached, and he swallowed flood water. “Ahh.” He vomited again.
The wind battered him. He held his hand up to block the rain pummeling his face. An American flag flapped in the swirling winds as rotor wash buffeted from above.
Kip closed his eyes. “We’re going home, boys,” he muttered. The helo was taking them to Bagram Airfield, where they were catching the first hop of a flight home.
* * *
Harper watched her niece.The baby girl with translucent skin was a miracle. “Your mommy is going to love you so.”
“She’s doing well with the added oxygen and warmth.” Tuck came into the nursery.
“How are the other babies doing?” Harper looked at the three side-by-side bassinets.
“Their temperature is normal. They’re eating and pooping. I have no idea if their records show anything else that’s pertinent.” Tuck checked each one of the babies’ monitors.
“Their parents are gone?” Harper sighed.
“As soon as the storm passes, we will begin a search. There was no next of kin listed in the hospital chart. We will try to get into the house where they were found when the flood waters recede.”
She looked up at Tuck. “I can’t not do anything. Channy is being kept sedated. The baby can’t be held for more than a few minutes every few hours. That leaves twenty more hours a day.”
“The building was prepared for folks looking for shelter. The seventh floor is slowly filling. Would you want to help with triage? Note patients on medications or dialysis?”
“Yes. Show me.” Harper jumped at the chance.
