Page 6 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

“Yes.” Though he wasn’t sure why that was so funny.

“Do you know Thomas the Tank?”

Oh. Now he saw what had set her off. “I’m familiar with his work, yes.”

Her pale lips curved into a smile, or probably the closest thing she could manage at the moment. “And you have special training in smushed limos?”

He gave her a rueful smile. Maybe a little entertainment would help her deal with the situation. “Among other things, sure.”

“What exactly is your training? Because from where I’m sitting, things are looking a little sketchy. How many situations like this have you been in? I mean, kind of like this?”

Fred, reaching an arm inside the half-open window to feel for the redhead’s pulse, clamped down on his irritation. “I’m certified in Rescue Systems, stuff like high-angle and low-angle rescues, trench rescues, confined space rescues, swiftwater, personal water craft, structural collapse, rope rescue, GPS awareness, and Instructor 1A and 1B, all of which qualifies me for Urban Search and Rescue, which is handy in an earthquake zone. But do you think we could discuss my career later? Right now I’d really like to get you out of here.”

“Oh. Right. Obviously you’re highly qualified. I’m sorry, I’m a little …” She took another deep breath. “I have a problem with small spaces. A big problem.”

The tension in her voice made him look at her more closely. He hoped she wasn’t going to start panicking again.

“Keep looking out the window, Rachel. That might help. We’re going to do this as quickly as possible.”

She turned her head, fixing her gaze on the world outside the window, and seemed to calm down. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Fred nodded, and stood up. He stepped away from the limo to consult with Mulligan, who had run up behind him.

“I’d feel better if we could shore up the crane, just in case,” he told the other firefighter.

“Good thing it’s a construction zone,” Mulligan said.

“Exactly what I was thinking. I have a tire iron in my truck. I’ll see if I can pop the doors. You go look for some two-by-fours or something.” He spotted a couple leaving the bar. They gaped at the scene, the woman whipping out her phone to take pictures. “Go. I’ll see if I can keep the area clear.”

Mulligan ran off, hurdling over one of the construction barricades. Fred spotted some orange cones and, at a fast jog, planted one at the head of the street and one at the end. The couple backed off. On the way past his truck, he grabbed a tire iron.

When he came back to the limo, at first he thought Rachel had fallen into unconsciousness. But her head swung around as soon as she heard him. The sight of her deep purple eyes made him blink. She looked so fierce, teeth gritted, the tendons of her neck wire-tight.

Normally he’d try to get the more seriously injured victims out first, but he didn’t want a panic attack on his hands. He’d better get her out first, before she lost it completely.

“I’m going to try popping your door with a tire iron,” he told her. “I think I can get it open enough to pull you out.”

“What about my friends?”

“I’ll get them from the other side.”

She frowned. “But they’re more badly hurt. You should get them out first. I’m fine. I got this. Maybe I can even help from here.”

He felt a sudden shot of admiration for her. Her mouth was still white around the edges, but she was holding herself together with a steely will. Maybe she wasn’t the airhead he’d taken her for. Almost unconsciously, he found himself checking out the rest of her. Her wavy black hair was drenched with sweat and clung to her forehead in dramatically thick strands.

“Think hard before you offer that,” he told her. “It means you’ll be stuck in here longer, and you mentioned not liking small spaces. I don’t know how long the extraction will take.”

Cindy moaned, and opened her eyes. “Rach? What happened?”

“Shhh,” Rachel murmured. “There was an accident. But the firemen are here and they’re going to get us out.”

“Accident? There can’t be an accident. I’m about to get married!”

Rachel met Fred’s eyes over Cindy’s head. “I can handle it,” she told him, her face set with determination. “Get the others out. I can help.”

Fred made the decision instantly. Some accident victims made the process more complicated, but Rachel seemed strong enough to be an asset.

Sirens sounded. He’d never been so glad to hear them in his life. Lights flashing, Engine 1 pulled up at the curb a short distance away, a paramedic van close behind. Firefighters in turnouts jumped out of the rig. The C shift was on duty, which meant Captain Jeb Stone, heading up the engine company, would be the incident commander. Paramedics ran to help the limo driver.

Fred quickly briefed Captain Stone. “I suggest attempting extraction from the passenger side, after we get some air bags going under the crane. We have four females trapped, two are unconscious, injuries unknown. Tell the paramedics to set up for C-spine.”

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