CHAPTER 7: THE RESCUE HAWK
DANNY'S STORY
A uniform from out front ran over to tell us the hostages are safe. She said hundreds of butterflies filled the air when you waved your hands. Then she told us you hurled water balloons at the guy, but that canη¨ be right, can it?
"Right as rain on the plane in Spain. Sounds insane, right?" Chuckles tumble through my lips when I finish. May be I'm coming out of shock too after that mother of a bomb.
"That may be no joke, but this must be. She swears you were firing a paintball gun at a man with a fully automatic assault weapon outfitted with a double drum of two hundred rounds of ammo. She told us you ran straight at him like your ass was on fire after he mowed you down with a shit load of bullets, and after you caught a grenade he threw at the hostages. She's joking for real on this one, right? Paint balls against a machine gun?" He's obviously skeptical. I guess he thought the lady officer was playing a prank.
"Right on the money," I confirm again.
He gasps for air. "What?"
"Yep. She got it right." A smile crosses my lips. A real one. Not forced. God bless morphine.
"Damn! I'd bet my paycheck she was spreading bullshit on that one. All right, I know she got this one wrong, though. She swore you caught a live grenade and put it in your pocket, or tote bag, or something. That's bullshit, right?"
I chuckle at Chuck. "It's no shit, Sherlock. The grenade had to hide in my pouch until I had time to dispose of it safely. She must have been watching the monitor. Those are silk butterflies for the kids to cheer them up."
"So she's right about all of it? Paint balls, water balloons, all of it?"
"Yep. She's right about all of it. I couldn't show up empty-handed, could I?"
Chuck laughs. "You went against a crazy man with three automatic weapons and hand grenades up the wazoo throwing water balloons and shooting paint balls? " He breaks into a fit of laughter. "Mando, you're the only one I know with enough balls to pull off a stunt like that without a hitch. No pun intended."
I chuckle. "When you put it that way I suppose there's some truth to it, but there was a hitch or two. That free falling grenade definitely goes in the hitch file." We both laugh.
"But you surly didn't, put a live grenade in your pocket without defusing it, did you?"
"Yep. Couldn't be helped. I had a schedule to keep."
How is that possible? If you pull the pin, the handle flies up, and the clock ticks its countdown because that little bomb is cooking. It's live. You either diffuse it or toss it. But you did neither. Wasn't it still ticking?"
"No, Chuck, it was an impact grenade; not a time delay fragment grenade. Impact grenades won't explode without direct collision. Defusing it wasn't necessary."
"I'm glad you know the difference and didn't let it land. Another thing; there was no paint anywhere on the guy. What was in the balls if it wasn't paint? There wasn't a drop of paint on him. Anything else either, so what did you shoot him with?""
"Paint balls loaded with chloroform soaked cotton-let's keep that between ourselves." I tell him.
"Now that just makes sense. 'He laughs. " Mando, just between us rabbits, that fall couldn't have killed the man, but he's stone cold dead."
"I punched that murdering psychopath into the next life. Just wish I was a few seconds faster so he'd be the only one dead. We lost two children, Chuck. They were practically cut in half by machine gun fire."
Chuck hears the regret in my voice. "That's sad news, alright. But remember this: A few seconds slower we'd all be dead, instead of just two, right?"
"Right. But I've never lost kids, Chuck." I stop just before my voice breaks. "He's cured of his hostage-taking syndrome, though. Got my out ready? "
"A car is waiting just a block over to take you to the chopper. Your SEALS are on the way, I take it?"
"Yes. I sent pictures of the bomb to them and to your phone."
"Is the bomb as bad as you feared? Is it completely neutralized?" He inquires, trying to mask the hint of worry and fear leaking into his words.
"It's live but secure. I disabled the main mechanisms, but there's another bomb in the false bottom below the canisters. The Seals will handle that one."
"What kind of bomb? The kind you described that scared the B-Jesus out of all of us?"
"Yes. It's the kind that can have a blast radius of ten miles or more and reach a temperature of up to a hundred thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Chuck, before we discuss this I need to stabilize the bomb with water so it won't blow when the canisters are removed. Have the fire department park a fire engine beside the window above you and send a fireman with an extension ladder to bring up the booster hose. Tell the engineer to start pumping. While you talk to the fire chief, I'll check on the ETA of our disposal team."
I confirm the team's ETA and send text to the CIA, Secret Service, Home Defense, and the General. By the time I affirm the situation is contained so the President and Vice President and Pentagon generals can leave their bunker, a firefighter's helmet appears at the window. There's a face under it, hiding behind a transparent shield. "Where's the fire, Sir? There's no smoke."
I wave him over to the toy box. When he steps off the ladder, I see he is covered from head to foot in fire resistant gear and bundled up like a caterpillar in a cocoon. "Listen carefully. What needs to be done is not a fireman's job. You don't get paid enough to do the bomb squad's job. Right?"
He breaks into a broad freckled grin. "Bomb? Not my yob, Hefei! But really, what needs to be done?"
I point to the box. "Fill this box to a third from the top of the canisters with calm still water. Use the spray nozzle against the side of the box. You want to do it until the squad gets here and they take over?"
"Is it dangerous? If I do it wrong will I blow us all up?" He doesn't seem too happy with the idea. Can't say I blame him.
I shake my head. "It's stable at the moment, and the sooner you have that box at least a quarter full the happier we'll all be."
"Shazam! Say no more."
He has water at the quarter mark in record time "Thanks. Your name?"
"Jake, Sir."
"Good job, Jake. Add three more inches of water and then get a vacuum system to remove the water when the canisters are out, and two large ventilation fans."