Disaster Among the Heavens, Don E Peavy Sr [reading rainbow books txt] 📗

He handed it to the young airman and said, “Run this over to the fellow outside the silo. Tell him to hold it up to the monitor.”
“Yes, sir,” answered the Airman. Taking the board, he put on a protective suit and disappeared.
Shannon then wrote out another message. When he had finished, he asked, “Have we any earth moving equipment here?”
“Yes, sir, we do,” answered a captain.
“Okay, here is what I want you to do. I want you to get busy on making me a tunnel to the door of that bunker. I want to be able to knock on the door in two hours.”
“Consider it done, sir.” The captain disappeared.
Shannon issued additional orders to several of the men gathered in the Command Centre. However, those orders were not recorded and are not germane enough to merit inventing. What is needed to say here is that all of those present were impressed with the way Shannon handled the disaster which they faced and which so engulfed them. Little did they know that they were witnessing the birth of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) – an agency that would make its impact after the opening of the X-Files.
. . .
Such admiration did not register with Fredda and Diggs, however. They were perplexed but were somewhat relieved when they saw Rodney hold up a poster board on which was printed, DO NOT PANIC. WE ARE STILL CONSIDERING YOUR DEMANDS.
After a few minutes, Rodney held up yet another board, WE ARE GOING TO GET A RADIO TO YOU SOON.
Fredda and Diggs read the boards then stared at each other. Relieved, they hugged and jumped up and down and shouted words of victory. There still was not much light in the bunker and so they did not see the blotches that were beginning to break through their skin at various sites. They were happy. Though they were buried nearly two miles beneath the surface of the earth they were happy.
Who could blame them for their joy? Because they were not acting according to a script, they could look “neither out far nor in deep.” All they could see was the moment. This moment looked very bright and promising to them. Well, it is that humans sight be short, else with their worry would they the future thwart.
. . .


Chapter 11

“Excuse me, Sir, there are four civilians demanding to see you,” interrupted an Airman.
Shannon looked up from the architectural plans he was reviewing and asked, “Civilians? What on earth are civilians doing here?”
“They’re from Chicago. Three of them are police officers and the fourth claims to be the wife of a doctor who is supposed to be in the bunker with the criminals.”
“Interesting,” responded Shannon. He rubbed his chin as an idea flashed in his head. “Bring them to me,” he directed the Airman who left and within a matter of minutes returned with the dishevelled group.
“Hold it, hold it, hold it! One at a time!” exclaimed Shannon as all four of them spoke simultaneously. They spoke loud and angrily.
“We protest the way we’ve been treated! We are officers of the law of the City of Chicago,” said Blundus.
Shannon was about to speak but Pamela Diggs interrupted, “My husband, where is he? How is he?”
Shannon decided to address the Wife first. “Ma’am, at the moment I have no information on your husband. I cannot even tell you if he is here.”
“Sir, please, I need to know that my husband is all right!” Pamela approached Shannon, fell to her knees and pleaded with him. She grabbed one of his hands and one of his legs while looking into his eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her touches ignited fires of sympathy within Shannon. Still, he was powerless to ease her pain.
He looked into her deep brown eyes as he searched for words to comfort her.
“Look, I have an idea. Hold on a minute.” Shannon struggled free of the firm grips Pamela had on him, got up from his chair and went to the door and called for an airman to bring a couple of poster boards and a Marks-A-Lot. He took them to his desk and wrote hurriedly a message in large print. “IS THERE A DOCTOR AMONG YOU? LOWER THE MISSILE BY ME IF THERE IS.”
“Take these to the fellow outside at the silo. Tell him to hold them up to the monitor and you wait 15 minutes for a response.” Shannon said to the Airman. He paused momentarily to make sure Pamela saw the signs then watched as the Airman exited.
Blundus helped Pamela to her feet. She ushered the limp mass to a nearby chair and sat down beside her. Pamela slouched over and buried her head against Blundus’ chest.
“Okay, how can I help Chicago’s finest?” Shannon asked the officers.
Black and White started to speak. Shannon gave them a stern look and they stopped in mid-sentence. It was White who spoke next.
“The assistant killed one of our officers back in Chicago. We’re here to arrest him. We are also interested in determining whether the doctor is a willing participant or a hostage.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we get finished with them. At any rate, if you promise to keep quiet and obey the rules I’ll let you go with me when I make contact with whoever is in that bunker. Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir!” Black and White shouted in unison.
Shannon turned to face Blundus who nodded her consent.
“Okay, find yourselves a chair and you can wait in here. You can sit along the wall so you’ll be out of the way.”
Black and White took up chairs next to Blundus. Shannon reclaimed his seat behind his desk and returned to studying the plans. After a few minutes, White got up and approached the desk.
“Sir, I’d like to make a telephone call to Headquarters to let them know we’re all right,” he said to Shannon who had returned to studying the plans.
Shannon did not look up. He said, “Sorry, can’t allow that right now. But if you will honour our agreement and return to your seat, I will see to it shortly.”
Detective White started to protest. He thought better of it and returned to his seat. About that time there was a knock on the door.
“Enter!” Shannon commanded in a loud, forceful tone of voice.
The Airman who had left with the poster boards entered the room, marched up to the desk and stood at attention.
“At ease, soldier,” ordered Shannon.
“Sir, there was no response.”
“No response, eh? Okay. That’s all. Dismiss.”
The Airman turned to leave. He stopped suddenly and almost fell on his face when he heard Shannon call after him.
“Hold it a minute,” called Shannon. Have the Major General to come here right away. Leave the door open.”
The Airman about faced, and marched out of the office. Shannon returned to his plans.
Pamela sat up in her chair and this allowed Blundus to whisper something into White’s ear as Black leaned over White in an attempt to listen in.
“Are you okay?” Blundus asked as she turned from White to face Pamela. She withdrew her hand from around the now composed wife.
“Yes, I am better,” answered Pamela. She stared at Shannon who continued to review the plans laid out on his desk.
“Well, General, what’s the news?” Shannon asked as the Major General entered the room, approached his desk and sat down next to it.
“Nothing positive, I’m afraid. It’s going to take a couple of hours to get the earth moving equipment up here. Every available C154 is out rounding up jet engines. It takes special trucks to move that equipment. They can go no faster than forty miles an hour, fifty tops. We have helicopters flying in from all over the place. I think we can have all the helicopters outfitted and in place within three hours. We have to bring in engines from as far away as California.”
The Major General looked exhausted. His voice sounded even worst.
“Damn General. We are losing valuable time. I’m worried about the state of mind of those people in the bunker. I don’t want them to go crazy on us. Is there nothing you can do to speed things up?”
“I wish it were, Shannon. But there is not. I’ve stretched our available resources to the limit.”
Shannon fought between telling the General to try harder and accepting his explanation, he knew from experience how short-sighted military men could be; many of whom could not function unless they had the specified tools in the specified quantity and quality. He decided that he needed the General and could not risk pushing him over the edge.
Shannon could tell that the General and most, if not all, of the other men were dangerously close to the edge. That their base had been taken hostage by a group of civilians was taxing enough. Add to that the death of so many good men, the blast and now the ominous cloud and their inability to make contact with their families, and it would not take much for them to find themselves falling off the cliff of sanity. That was a prospect Shannon did not wish to face.
He decided to accept the General’s observations for the moment. “Okay, General, that’s going to put us at mid-afternoon. That’s dangerously close to our deadline. Give me back whatever time you can.”
The General was relieved that Shannon did not push him further. He feared that Shannon would go ballistic. Forcing a smile, he said, “I’ll do my best. There’s one other problem but I think we have it licked.”
“What’s that?” Shannon asked. He sat up straight and waited for more bad news.
“My hazardous materials team tells me we cannot allow the dirt we remove to become airborne. If we do, we risk contaminating the air and a possible need to evacuate large segments of the surrounding population,” explained the General.
Shannon was pleased with the General’s initiative. “What’s your plan?” he asked.
The General noticed the shift in Shannon’s tone and facial expression. He too relaxed somewhat. “We are building a giant tent over the blast area. Once the equipment is inside, the tent will be sealed shut. All personnel will be in specialized suits with oxygen.”
“That’s ingenious! You’re a regular military genius!” exclaimed Shannon.
“Thank you, Sir.” beamed the General.
“One other thing General. I’ve been studying the plans of the bunker. Do you think it could have survived that blast?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s designed to withstand a ground zero hit. It should be intact.”
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it. Dammit, we need to have a word from that bunker! Keep me posted.”
“Will do.” The General got up and left.
. . .
Doctor Diggs sat on the floor of the bunker and watched Rodney as he displayed the two poster boards. He and Fredda had been unable to make it to the bed or a chair as the dust-bound particles of nuclear material invaded then saturated their bodies. He tried to shake Fredda so she could watch but his hands did not respond. His mind