Panting, Chad Thorn replied, “Basement floor is flooding. Pumps are keeping up. Water is up to lobby entrance second step.”
“Keep me posted.” Kip looked grim. “I’m going downstairs to check our lobby.” Josh fled on his heels.
Kip stepped into the stairwell. “We need to lock down the elevators.” Reaching the lobby, he saw the street resembled a stream. “Nothing we can do now. We need to walk the floors and check in with the medical staff.”
The surreal view from the upper floors sent a shudder of discomfort through him. And it didn’t take long for his feeling to be validated. Reports of more barges floating free hit the airwaves. Lake Ponchetrain was overtopping. Flood waters in some areas were reaching fifteen feet. Calls were overflowing to 911 from people trapped in their homes.
Kip gritted his teeth. “Why don’t people heed the warnings?”
“They underestimate; they don’t want to leave their belongings; they have pets…” Bruce said.
“We’re bugging out,” the words from the lead operator at Warehouse 1 called. “Cargo is secured as best as possible. Flood waters rising.”
Kip worked to sound strong despite having staff in harm’s way. “We will see you soon.”
Julian joined them, fresh from a mandatory nap. Kip knew sleep was necessary. “I heard it as I came in. If the warehouse is breached, the next will be the hospital,” he warned.
“The whole city is out. Massive flooding all over. Multiple people trapped,” Bruce reported.
“Our assets?” Julian quirked a brow. He reminded Kip he couldn’t save everyone.
“Except for the Warehouse 1 staff having to get out, so far so good,” Kip said.
Time, like the storm, seemed to stall over them. The local station was reporting from a remote location. The national news painted the grim pictures for the nation.
The sat phone rang. “Boss, we have an issue. We got a call to the ER. A family with new triplets is trapped in their home. Their home oxygen is electricity-powered, and the batteries will run out in four hours. They were making their way to their attic. FD is trying to respond. It’s…” They could hear the desperation in Tobey’s voice.
“Assets?” Kip asked Julian. Their personnel and their families were their priority.
Julian tipped his head to the sky. “O’Mara, where are they?”
“Gert Town.” He gave them the address.
Kip’s shoulders pressed back, and he lifted his chin. “Hurricane boating is on my bucket list.”
“You’re the boss; you can’t do that,” Josh said, flabbergasted.
“Name six people in this building with swift water rescue skills, boating skills and climbing skills,” Kip asked.
“Zayne—no, he has a sprained ankle. Wes, Noah. Mark, Seth—no, he can’t leave…” Josh went through the list.
“Jule, Wes, Noah, Mark, Joe, and me,” Kip said. “Tobey, keep talking to them. We are heading out in five.”
The six men dressed and double-checked their equipment. Noah, Joe, and Mark grabbed an isolette. Kip hoped the airlock would hold for the babies.
“Ready? No easy day.” They piled their hands on top of each other, each man repeating the phrase.
Chapter 34
The rain stabbed at them, and the winds threatened to topple the men from their feet. Based upon the location of the family and what cameras they could tie into, they could make it by vehicle to Earhart Boulevard before they would need to hit the boat. Each man wore a beacon and a transponder. As Mark drove, the weight of the passengers kept the Suburban on the road.
Visibility was nonexistent. Julian’s intimate knowledge of the city, as well as their high-tech equipment, helped them move forward.
“Shit,” Mark called. “We’ve got poles down.” The headlights caught the sight, and Mark’s quick reflexes stopped them before they wiped out.
“Mes amis, ready to run under the boat,” Julian cracked, a reminder of their SEAL training.
With the boat over their heads and the isolette swinging between Noah and Wes, they headed around the broken poles toward the trapped family. The almost three-mile trip had already taken twenty minutes.
