Last War (21 page)

    
His phone rang.

    
“Hey, Jason, two things: 1. Wanted to remind you—as you asked—if you set the fire alarm on test mode?”

    
“Yes, Melinda, I did. About an hour ago. Thanks, sweetheart.”

    
“No problem. 2. We have your daughter’s group on the line. They want to know when is a good time to come over?” 

    
“It’s just too much, today, Melinda. I’m gonna have to wait until after this drill, or just give them a rain check.”

     “OK, sir.”

     “Melinda.” Jason called just before she hung up.

     “Yes, sir?”

     “Let’s just give them the rain check. Tell them when they come back, I’ll have the coolest field trip for them, ever.”

     “Sure thing, sir.”

     Jason leaned forward. His elbows pressed against his desk while he massaged his eyes and temples. When he looked back at his monitor, everything was the same. None of the planes he had programmed were showing up, and there were no squawks.

     I’m gonna hear it from the boss, tonight. This is a disaster.

     A
thick hissing sound swiped seemingly just over the floor above him, ending in a robust explosion. The ground shook. Jason watched his cup of coffee skip a single hop towards him.

    
“What the…?”

    
He hopped out of his chair and ran to his window. Only thing he could see from his office were scattered people, standing frozen, staring towards the opposite direction. A fluttering of half-burning paper flew from over the top of the roof. He darted into the hallway. The same, mortified, trance-state-expression painted his co-workers’ faces.

    
He ran back into his office and picked up his phone. He called the lobby of his building.

    
“WTC 7. May I help you?”

    
“It’s Jason. What’s going on outside?”

    
“Sir we.. wo..king…it. It… like it has someth..ng to do w… passenger airlines. Ha…n’t he—“  The phone went dead. He dialed the extension that put him in touch with NEADS. “What’s going on out there guys?”

    
The NEADS battle commander responded calmly,“Not quite sure yet. We’re on the phone with FAA. Seems like there’s been a hijacking. We’ve sent fighters to look for the plane; it’s Flight 11.”

    
“Well, where is it?”

    
“The transponder is off sir. We’re searching.”

    
“This is real? Where did the call come from?”

    
“Texas base. A flight attendant reported a hijacking. Yes, sir, it’s real.”

    
“Keep me in the know.” He said before hanging up. 

    
Jason ran out into the hallway where a collective chatter was growing increasingly louder. Chatter about missiles; chatter about an aircraft hitting the towers; chatter about an explosion. Questions without answers bred speculation about terrorism.

    
The 1993 World Trade Center attacks became the hot topic on the floor.

     Jason called Michael.

     “Hello?”

     “Mike!”

     “Jason! Where are you?”

     “I’m in WTC 7. What’s going on? I hear the noise.”

     “I don’t know. The lobby blew up.”

     “Wait a minute. I just got out of the building… something hit the World Trade Center, Jason.”

     “Which one?”

     “WTC 1.”

     “Vanessa’s in there!”

     “Oh my god!” Michael shouted before his
went dead.

    
“Michael?!”

     It was too late. The phone had cut off. Jason tried dialing the number back.
It went straight to voicemail.

    
Jason peered across the hall where the co-commander of the defense department and C.I.A. stared somberly out of the window with his hand covering his mouth.

    
Jason approached the window to see a gaping hole in the side of the north tower’s building. Black smoke emerged from the flames flaring out of the holes, and billowed into the clear blue sky.

    
He scurried back into his office and grabbed his phone. Dialing Vanessa’s number, he ran into the hallway towards the elevators.

    
Rapidly tapping on the down button, his anxiety rushed ahead of him. Still, time forced him to await Vanessa’s voice.

    
“Hello, daddy?!”

    
“Vanessa, baby! Where are you?” He asked as the elevator doors parted.

    
“I’m in the building. We’re trapped in an elevator right now.”

    
“What happened?”

     “After w
e called you, we were going up the elevator back up to see more sights. Then there was a large crack of thunder that made the whole elevator shake. The lights went off then on. And now we’re stuck in here.”

    
“Hold on babe. I’m coming.”

    
Jason got onto the elevator and hit the base floor.

    
“How many teachers are with you?”

     “Three. Mrs. Cr
umbart, Mr. Lambert, and Mrs….”

    
The line began to break up as his elevator sped to ground level. A beep indicated that he had lost connection with her.

    
Once he reached the lobby, he ran past the front desk.

    
“Is the mayor in here?”

    
“No.” The desk lady answered. “He nor the rest of the crew have come in here today.”

     “Thanks.” Jason sprinted through
the lobby out to Vesey Street where he saw the enormous gaping hole at the very top of the World Trade Center north tower without the protection of a window pane in between. The air smelled like a burning science lab.

     
It had now sunk deeper into his reality; a reality that now felt like a convergence with a nightmare.

    
Everything but nothing seemed real.

    
After his brief trance, he dialed Vanessa’s phone again only to get a busy signal. “All circuits are busy” the operator said calmly.

    
He dialed again and amidst the chaos, the operator said just as calmly and politely the exact message as before. Rage filled his chest. Jason wanted to scream.

    
He ran towards the building while calling Michael.

     All circuits busy.

    
Jason continued his run down the block continually attempting to dial Vanessa’s phone. The phone rang this time, but, it kept ringing. It didn’t stop ringing until the voicemail picked up which was a message created for her by her mother.

    
“Sorry Nessa can’t come to the phone…” The message blurred off into a distance muffle as he glanced up at the building which had appeared to be giving off more smoke than before.

    
His phone rang and it was Jill.

    
“Have you heard from Nessa?”

    
“I had about ten minutes ago, but I haven’t been able to get through to her since.”

    
“Was she OK?”

    
Jason didn’t want anymore panic than what was surely already panic setting in. He made the risky decision to keep his wife calm, and slightly out of the loop.

    
“She was fine, babe. She said they were in there, but I’m sure they’ll be able to get her out.”

    
There was no reason to tell her Vanessa was stuck, just yet, was there? The horror of having a daughter caught in a burning skyscraper stuck in an elevator was stressful enough. His wife’s grief would only make the situation more unbearable.

    
He needed his emotions in check enough to operate.

    
“I’m heading over there now, babe. I’m going to get her. I’ll call you back.”

    
A boisterous swooping sound swished fluidly and power trickled between the blocks of the tall buildings as another explosion erupted – this time, from the south tower. Debris ejected high above him.

     The explosion appeared in
slow motion like an action movie as he watched the pieces splash out of the face of the building and float like sulfur and fire from the heavens down onto the ground below.

     Jason ducked for cover under a car parked on by
the sidewalk. Metal of all sizes clanked around him. A large fireball crashed through the store window just beside him setting the place on fire.

     When the debris finished falling, Jason hopped to his feet.

     Another plane had hit the opposite tower.

    
Screams, cries and profanity played, seemingly, on loop from every direction. Residual fiery debris continued to race down to the street.

    
Jason ducked back under the car for a moment before the next wave of debris calmed.

    
From underneath the car, he saw feet running away from the chaos. Panic was everywhere.             

    
When Jason finally crawled from under the car, he stood up to one of the most surreal scenes of his life. People were hurt, some were bloody. His surroundings were littered with pieces of random building and airplane remnants. Things were on fire, windows were broken, cars were crushed. Car alarms blared, emergency vehicles, and the bustling roar of flames burning out of two massive buildings. It looked like Armageddon. It sounded like Armageddon.

    
It felt like Armageddon.

    
The atmosphere was slightly smokey with most of the people—men, women, and children—dazed in horror.

    
Sirens swirled from every direction and with the thudder of helicopter blades, bounced off of the surrounding Manhattan buildings. Every street he turned down offered a new set of screams accompanied with the sorrow and sobbing fear—and despite the slow motion nature of what he saw, nothing was still. Everything was moving.

    
The entire lower portion of Manhattan spun around him maybe six times until he was dizzy. He couldn’t tell if he had spun, or if the world had rotated around him; he couldn’t feel his feet.

     His knees gave out for a second, dropping him to the pavement. He caught himself with his hands, and waited until he had some composure back. But, his condition worsened. He felt sick. He was going to hurl, at any moment.

     His phone ran; it was Vanessa’s phone.

    
Quickly, he answered. “Babe?!”

    
“Daddy. We’re out.”

     Jason rolled onto his back
. Covering his eyes with his left forearm he cried, “Oh, thank God…” Jason didn’t even believe in God. He was non-religious. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

    
“We’re coming down the stairs. We’re halfway there.”

    
“Ask your teacher what stairwell. What floor are you on?”

    
Jason knew that building like the back of his hand. He would know where to go if he only knew which stairwell they were going to be in. He heard Vanessa shout back at the teacher asking for the stairwell.

     T
he phone cut out again.

    
He tried to call back only to get a busy signal, once more. That operator was torturing him.

     He called Jill
back.

    
“Hello?”

     “Jill
, she’s fine. I’m going to get her now. She just called and she’s on her way out.”

     Jill
began to sob. “Thank you, hon. I knew you could do it.”

    
“It’s going to be OK. Let me call you back.”

    
As Jason approached the entrance of the north tower, the firefighters stopped him.

    
“Sir, it’s just not safe enough for you to enter.”

     “I’ve got people in there.
I work for the C.I.A. Their covert defense sector -- I’m stationed in the WTC 7 building, and it’s imperative that you let me in there.”

    
“OK, agent. But, it’s not safe in this way. There’s falling debris and bodies. This really is not a place you want to be.”

    
“Sir,” Jason said with a stern voice, “it’s not your choice. This is a matter of national security. Move.”

    
The firefighter stepped aside as Jason ran into the building.

    
The scene was amazing. Fire alarms blared a steady high-pitched squeal echoing off of the hollow bare white walls and bellowing out of the shattered windows.