One of the Boys (19 page)

Maggie was learning. She followed Mac's orders and thought hard over the next few days. She remembered her feelings of panic when her former fiancé had pressured her, although not quite as forcefully as the mountain had. She remembered how she'd run from him and her Houston job to escape her feelings of being trapped. And she compared those feelings to the intense urge she felt to accept Mac's hand and heart.

She didn't feel trapped with Mac, she felt…confused. Ten years or more of lighthearted wandering wherever her will and her talents took her were at stake. Suddenly they seemed trivial compared to what she suspected she might find with Mac and his two, correction, three, holy terrors.

Maggie had just tossed another page of doodles into her overflowing wastebasket when the crash phone rang. With Eglin's active flying mission, there were usually one or two in-flight emergencies a day, most of which ended routinely. Maggie or one of her staff monitored every call on the crash line. If the incident being
reported turned out to be serious, they needed to respond. She picked up the receiver quickly.

“This is the Eglin command post. We have a report of an explosion on the range. The base commander has directed the disaster-response team to assemble immediately at Base Operations. Acknowledge.”

Maggie's heart turned over in her chest. Telling herself not to panic, she waited until the command post rapped out her office code, then responded with the approved call sign.

Don't let it be the propulsion test! Dear Lord, please don't let it be the test! Her mind screamed the silent prayer as she grabbed her boots and jeans, slammed her office door shut and tore off her skirt and slip. Her fingers trembled, fumbling on the snaps. She grabbed her hard hat and was just pulling the thick disaster-response team checklist out of the bookcase when her intercom rang. She started to ignore it, but a quick glance told her it was Ed Stockton's direct line.

“Maggie, we just got a call. There's been an explosion.”

She sucked in her breath. “Yes, I know. I just took the notification from the command post. I'm on my way out the door.”

“Did they tell you the location or nature of the accident?”

“No.” Maggie's last hope died at Ed's flat hard tone.

“It was Site 32. The propulsion test. Something went wrong.”

“I was afraid it was,” she rasped out. “Ed, Mac's out there!”

And Jack, her deputy, along with a lot of other people, she thought. She swallowed her gut-wrenching fear. Gripping the phone so hard her hand hurt, she forced herself to ask. “Any report of casualties?”

“Not yet. The fire department's on the scene right now. The chief himself went out for this one. He'll do whatever's necessary until the disaster-response team gets there.”

Ed's words recalled Maggie with a jerk. “I've got to go. The team's assembling at Base Ops now. I've got our van with the radio in it. Please, please, let me know if you hear anything.”

She knew the fire chief would be in direct contact with Ed, probably before he even called the command post to update them.

“Will do, Maggie. Be careful, okay? You know better than anyone how dangerous this may be.”

She didn't need that reminder, Maggie thought as she forced herself to drive the speed limit the short distance to Base Ops. She knew it would take longer for the rest of the team to arrive, some coming from the hospital all the way on the west side of the base.

Please let Mac be okay,
she prayed over and over in an unconscious litany.
Let me see him again.
They hadn't been together since Mac had delivered his marriage proposition three nights ago. Maggie refused to call it a proposal—it had really been more of a com
mand—but it had filled her mind almost to the exclusion of everything else. She rubbed her eyes with a fist to hold back the threat of tears.

Forcing her personal fears from her mind, she made herself focus on her professional responsibilities. Mentally she reviewed everything she knew about the test. She'd gone over it with Jack again just this morning. Since he'd done the original analysis and wanted to cover the actual test, she'd agreed. Maggie refused to give in to the sick guilt that threatened to swamp her. She should have gone out to the test site, instead of Jack. He knew the test, knew all the properties of the chemicals they were using, knew the dangers. But it was her responsibility. And Mac may be hurt.

By the time she reached Base Ops and unloaded her gear, she had forced herself to an icy calm. She'd practiced with the disaster-response team a couple of times since coming to Eglin. The team took their responsibilities with deadly seriousness. Their practices were frighteningly realistic. They had to be. Eglin had an active flying mission and the population of a medium-size city. Any type of accident could happen, from gas-main explosions to fires to airplane crashes. The exercise-team chief enlisted schoolchildren, wives and on-base civilians as participants in simulated bus crashes, hostage situations and major explosions of all types. Hospital personnel painted gory injuries on the players. The more realistic the better.

Their practice stood them in good stead now. As the
various team members assembled, they ran through their checklists with brisk efficiency. The on-scene commander briefed them on what he knew, which wasn't much more than what had been relayed by the command post. Each team member then described what he or she knew of the test and the site. Maggie forced herself to detail calmly the environmental hazards to the other team members. Everything inside her wanted to scream at them to get on with it, to move faster. Her rational mind knew the danger of plunging blindly into an accident site. But emotionally, she wished she could jump in her van and take off without waiting.

After what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, the on-scene commander directed the team to an entry control/safe point coordinated by radio with the fire chief. Maggie ran to her van, accompanied by the chaplain and two bio-environmental techs. Her four-wheeler could handle the rough range roads easily. She wheeled the van into the convoy of vehicles that drove off the main base, led by a police car with its siren screaming.

She kept the radio tuned to the fire-station crash line all during the long ride to the site. The firefighters were real pros, and the chief especially so. He kept chatter over the open radio to a minimum. Their lines were unscrambled and often monitored by civilians off base. There was no need to panic the general populace until they knew the scope of the disaster.

“It's Jack. Thank God!”

Maggie all but shouted as her van pulled up to the
circle of police cars and fire trucks gathered at the entry-control point. Even from a distance she recognized her tall bearded deputy. Before the van had completely stopped rolling, Maggie slammed it into park and leaped out. As she ran toward Jack, she could hear the roar of flames and smell the sharp acrid scent of smoke in the air. Tall pines blocked the accident scene from sight.

“Jack, are you okay?” She grabbed his arm.

“I'm fine, boss. I wasn't on-site when it happened. I'd just come back to my car for some notes I needed.”

“What happened? How bad is it?”

“It wasn't the propellant, Maggie. The stuff hadn't even been unloaded from the containers.”

Maggie clutched his arm hard in relief. All during the long drive to the site, she'd dreaded hearing reports of toxic clouds spreading over the area.

“It was some kind of a freak accident. The crane lifting the firing tube into place snapped a cable, which in turn whipped into the mechanized loading vehicle. From what I can gather, sparks ignited the vehicle's fuel and caused the explosion. I wasn't there, though. The fire chief has the real poop.”

Maggie glanced over to where the chief was briefing the on-scene commander. She turned back and asked the question eating at her soul.

“Jack, did you see Colonel MacRae before or after the accident?”

Jack shook his head slowly. He, like most of the engineering squadron, knew Maggie was dating the lab
commander. Maggie caught back a ragged sob, then made herself take several deep breaths.

“The chief might know something,” Jack volunteered. “He just came out of the accident area a few minutes ago.”

Maggie knew she couldn't interrupt the fire chief as he huddled with the on-scene commander, but she watched them closely. When the commander turned away to take a radio call, she approached the sweating helmeted fireman.

“Chief, Colonel MacRae was supposed to be on-site for the test. Have you had contact with him?”

The stocky grizzled man turned to face Maggie. He admired and respected this vibrant young woman. She'd ridden with his fire crews during a couple of exercises and had spent a full day with his hazardous-materials team. If Maggie's own credentials hadn't already won his professional respect, her willingness to listen and learn from his people would have done it.

“Sorry, Dr. Wescott. I haven't seen him. There's still a lot of confusion in there.” He nodded toward the flames they could see leaping above the treeline. “We should hear something soon.”

He turned away to answer a call from the on-scene commander. They talked for a moment, then the commander called his team together. Maggie knew the man in charge both personally and professionally. She and Mac had been seated beside him and his wife at more than one social function. Maggie gave grateful thanks
that he'd been in the job for more than two years and knew his stuff.

“Okay, this is what we have so far,” the commander said. “A vehicle fire and explosion occurred just north of the control center at Site 32. Burning fuel sprayed several workers in the area. The fire crews have stabilized at least two people with severe burns, but there may be more.”

He nodded to the senior medical rep. “Doc, make sure your folks call back for more burn-trauma kits, just in case. Additionally, the fuel ignited both structural and brushfires that are still burning. The lab folks moved the propellant and main rocket fixtures off-site immediately and they're out of range. Thank God we don't have that to worry about. But there may be other chemicals stored or brought out for the test. Fire crews are surveying the area now.”

He took a deep breath, then finished with, “There were several lab and range control crews on-site. We're trying to get a firm head count. I'm going in with the chief now. Doc, you better come with me. The rest of you wait until I call you in.”

Maggie bit her lip in an agony of frustration. Now that her worst fears of a major chemical disaster were allayed, every nerve and fiber in her body screamed for word of Mac. She forced herself to review again her disaster-response checklist, going over the sections on chemical and natural fires. Together, she and Jack added to the grease-pencil annotations on the checklist. She'd
have to either call or fax a detailed report to both state and federal environmental agencies as soon as the imminent danger passed.

“Dr. Wescott, over here, please. Major, you, too.”

Maggie looked up to see the on-scene commander returning. She and the senior bio-environmental medical engineer hurried over.

“Look, there are some barrels burning close to the control center. We couldn't find any lab folks who knew what they contained. The senior test engineer is one of those seriously injured. The chief has what markings his people could get off the barrels. I need you to get with him immediately and see if you can figure out if we have a danger of a secondary explosion on our hands.”

Maggie and the young major hurried over to the worried fire chief. “What do we have?”

“I think they're chemical-waste containers, waiting to be transported to main base for disposal. I've called the numbers into the National Emergency Materials Center, but I need you to take a look and see what you think.”

Maggie knew the twenty-four-hour hotline should respond within minutes. But even those few minutes could be too late for the people facing the danger of a secondary explosion. She pulled out her own copy of the materials directory and frantically scanned the listed agents that contained the numbers the chief cited. All were flammable, but should burn steadily, not explode. The men around her sagged with relief at the news. The
call from the center confirmed her numbers a few minutes later.

“Thank God,” the chief muttered. He picked up his hand radio and barked a series of short orders.

“The fire crews have contained most of the fires,” the on-scene commander told his assembled team less than fifteen minutes later. “I'm moving the command post forward. Get your stuff. Public Affairs, you need to leave someone here to handle reporters. I don't want them on-scene until we ID the injured. Call me if anyone gets too persistent about wanting to film the scene. I want to clear it before you bring anyone forward. The rest of you gather your gear and move up.”

Maggie, with Jack crammed between her and the chaplain, maneuvered her van over the bumpy road leading to the test-control facility. Several ambulances passed in the opposite direction, moving back toward the main road with lights flashing and sirens wailing. As soon as Maggie's van reached the site, the chaplain jumped out to hurry to the small triage area set up.

Maggie and Jack stood back to observe the devastated control facility and its surrounding area. Flames had scorched the earth all around and peeled the paint from the main metal building and its adjacent utility sheds. Electrical lines hung loose and snapping on one side of the building. Maggie directed Jack to get on the radio to the architectural section back at the main base. They needed a general idea of the floor plans of the main facility so they could check for underground drains that
might carry burning fuel. While Jack was on the radio, Maggie desperately scanned the crowd of hurrying people.

She identified firefighters, security police, disaster-response team members in their distinctively marked hard hats, medics and a couple of frantic-looking civilians huddled to one side of the site. But, try as she might, she couldn't see any figure that came near Mac's dimensions.